The Blood's Desire
by Erik'sTrueAngel
Summary: Luciana had her revenge once she turned Erik into a real creature of darkness. Tormented over his loss of music and love, he sets out for a new beginning and finds a second chance. As the body count rises, Erik will do anything to keep Christine forever. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

Rated: R or M

Genre: Horror/Romance

Summary: Luciana had her revenge once she turned Erik into a real creature of darkness. Tormented over his loss of music and love, he sets out for a new beginning and finds a second chance, but there is a cost. As the body count rises, Erik will do anything he can to keep Christine forever. Warning: Contains strong language and adult content.

Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom or Bram Stoker's _Dracula_, but what a bash that would be if I did!

A/N: I'm BACK! And finally too! This story was started about six years ago and I put it aside to focus on some other stories. Then several months ago I picked it up again, only to stop, after I revised the first six chapters. It wasn't until I found the soundtrack for _Love Never Dies_ that I became instantly inspired again. I know a lot of people are not fans of LND, and I haven't had the fortune to see it, but I fell in love with the music and songs. So you can say the third's time a charm.

That being said, I have always wanted to write a story with Erik as a vampire. It's nothing new and I have read other stories where our beloved Phantom was one of the creatures of the night. But… like anything, I like to give it a twist and this isn't going to be like anything you've read before. Well… I hope not.

You know the drill. Go ahead and leave behind a lovely review!

The Blood's Desire

By: Erik'sTrueAngel

**Chapter 1**

Dismay settled in the pit of his belly.

The lone man, trudging carelessly in the streets of Paris, had one destination in mind: the Seine.

The night had begun like any ordinary night. The usual nocturnal inhabitants emerged; the scent of cheap perfume from half-naked women stood on every corner, the lustful men of all stations and drunks were staggering about in search for pleasure. Sometimes the occasional hired watchman would approach a prostitute to pass the time. Once the sun sets, sin takes over like a plague, widespread and toxic.

The night was also his shield, his cover. Like the others he easily blended in; although, he considered himself not part of their race. He may be a man of flesh and blood, but his lot wasn't among the humans who claimed him to be a monster, a phantom. He was nothing.

Ever since his childhood, he grew up to ignore and overpower any urge that was remotely _human_ so the cruel words would not hurt. In the beginning it had been simple… up until he became a young man. Only then did he begin to yearn for the knowledge of the passion and desire that could overtake two people and experience the "joys of the flesh." The first took place in Rome and the second was his exposure to the sensual world Persia had to offer.

To placate himself, he observed quietly and learned how much the human body could withstand from both pain and pleasure. He did this until he could get away from the Sultan and his mother's sadistic need for blood. His stay lasted a few years before he had to flee for the sake of his own life. His leaving broke the spell, which remained buried only to be uncovered in blinding speed the moment he took his first steps in Paris.

The cause of his agony and distress was the talented Christiana. The young and beautiful Christiana Danvers, a soprano in the Opera Populaire. Stuck in the chorus with superfluous roles, she managed to steal his heart; an organ he never dreamt could be taken in such fashion. Yet, her purity and innocent looks was enough for the fifty-something year old to become enamored.

After laying his eyes on her, he knew he had to have her. Not in a physical sense (if that was possible he would die merrily in peace), but he wanted to cherish her in hopes that she would care for him in someway. He didn't expect love. For who could love him? Surely if not his own mother, then any other wouldn't do. He just wanted to be accepted.

He followed, he studied, and he learned all that he could about the girl. He became obsessed and out came the inspiration he needed to compose. He wrote an opera for her, only for her to sing and sing alone. He would refuse anyone else but her.

He lived where she worked. Whoever dared to mark her by word or action he was there, making sure it would never happen again. Not long after he created a stir among the performers and stagehands, giving him the name Opera Ghost or the Phantom of the Opera. Both suited him well and he was able to strike enough fear to gain some control over the dealings.

With his influence he would be able to have his work performed with his love as the lead. Except… his plan fell through.

The managers agreed to have the opera produced and shown (thanks to numerous threatening notes), but when it came to the lead—Christiana refused to sing this "garbage."

It took many a coaxing and pleas before she at last accepted. Tonight was the opening night and everything went well. Too well, in fact, but his mind wasn't occupied with the strange good fortune that came his way. He decided tonight was the night to reveal himself as her admirer.

Once the gala ended, he hoped to follow her home where he would declare his dying devotion. So he waited in the shadows for the perfect timing. At the sight of her bouncing blonde curls, he executed his plan and kept his distance to avoid any suspicion or scares. He wasn't prepared for what he saw next.

He rounded the corner of her street, his pace quickening as his heart pounded with excitement. He approached her door, the adrenaline rushing through his body, and as he was starting to knock; a sound from within caused him to stiffen.

There was a crash and what sounded like a moan. Terror gripped him. She was in trouble! Just as he was about to break down the door, a flash caught his attention in the window. He moved over and froze.

Christiana… _his _Christiana was wrapped around a body of a man. Their lips were locked together in a frenzy kiss, fingers clawing at the other's clothes. It was dark inside, but his vision was that of a feline's. He could make out clearly the activity they were doing and once the man suddenly forced her on top of the settee, he recognized who he was.

Her lover was one of the stagehands at the opera. He noticed them conversing before, though it had been friendly banter and never gave him a reason to fear for a rival. Apparently, he was wrong.

A heavy lump of despair choked him, his chest constricting in what he believed was his heart breaking.

He endured a wretched life and after witnessing his one chance of happiness evaporated, he knew he couldn't go on anymore. He had enough suffering to last for several lifetimes.

Now, he mournfully walked towards the Seine, to once and for all end his pain. Not one soul seemed to notice the six-foot figure covered in black from head to toe, his fedora tilted far to cover his face leaving a sliver of white visible. The gentle rippling of water assured him he was close…close…there.

Looking over the edge of the railing, all he could make out was the quiet ripples of the dark water. He reached and threw off his fedora, the moonlight illuminating his reflection. A tentative finger traced the porcelain that concealed his _difference_ to normal beings. He thought whether or not he should remove it and decided against it. He didn't want his abnormality to be the last he sees.

His fingers went to his throat and started to untie his cloak. The black silk fluttered down his back to lie in a puddle at his feet. All was left was his cotton white shirt hidden beneath his ebony jacket and pants. He could have almost passed as a gentleman.

He snorted, shaking his head. A gentleman he was _not_.

Gripping the iron rail, he lifted his left leg to swing over.

"…_Erik…"_

His body went rigid. Dropping his foot down, he glanced from the right then left seeing no one. Muttering a curse, he swung his leg and got ready to move the other when he heard his name again with more force.

"…_Erik!"_

His visible brow shifted in a frown, he turned his head.

Ahead was a brilliant figure surrounded by white. He could barely make out the shape or face, but the voice was definitely feminine. His heart flip-flopped. _Christiana? Could it be?_

He lowered himself back down; an attempt of a grin broke across his façade. As quickly as the sudden joy came, he shook himself as he remembered she didn't know he existed. Let alone his name.

The apparition grew closer and he was able to see it was a woman. Her gown was immaculate and glowing, long raven hair blowing around the pallid heart-shaped countenance with eyes dark as coal. Her ruby lips were thin, yet full, and curled upwards in a sinister smile as she drew ever near.

His chest rose in rapid breaths, his eyes widening as his mind recalled a girl who bored a striking resemblance to…

"L-luciana?" he whispered, disbelief covering his visage.

"_Who else?" _she replied sweetly. _"Poor Erik. You changed quite a lot since the last we saw each other. I've been looking for you." _

A dry chuckle echoed his ears as he stared at his first love.

"_Oh yes. You were difficult to find. The last thirty-five years I traveled all over, always hearing tales of a masked man with a voice of an angel. Every time I thought was close I was wrong and had to keep moving. When I arrived in Paris I heard about the Phantom of the Opera. I knew it had to be you, but I had to make sure. And my suspicions were correct!"_

Her pale hands clasped together as her eyes glittered dangerously. _"I'm happy to see you."_

"Y-you're dead!" he sputtered, stepping back. "Luciana, you _died_! How… how is this possible?"

Luciana briefly gazed at her nails then up to the pale-stricken man. _"I am. Well, sort of. You're not happy to see me?" _She pouted as Erik slowly continued to move away.

"_I suppose it's because I'm not that singer, hmmm?"_

Erik whirled around, jaw dropping as she stood behind him. _"You abandoned me for a whore? Tsk tsk. I'm hurt Erik. I would have given you my heart but…" _Her hands swept up in an oh-well gesture. _"…you took more than what I was willing to offer."_

"No!" He gasped. "I—It was an a-accident!" A burst of anger suddenly flowed through his veins as he stepped forward hissing, "_You_ wanted to see! _You_ forced me!"

"_Did I?" _she questioned innocently. _"Doesn't matter. Either way I shouldn't have died right?"_

"Why are you here?" Erik demanded. "What do you want?"

Her lips twitched, a malice glint shining in her eyes. _"What any poor soul wants. Justice."_

Erik gaped, not understanding what she meant.

Luciana moved forward. _"I can't have you kill yourself, my love. There's no punishment in that."_

Her lips rolled inwards, baring gleaming teeth as her dark eyes changed to silver. Two sharp fangs protruded from the rest, her hands stretching out in a comforting gesture.

"_Do not be afraid. I won't hurt you."_

Her voice was hypnotic, gentle, promising. Erik struggled with all his might, using his willpower to block her out. But it was a losing battle. He couldn't control his feet, he couldn't control his voice, and he couldn't control himself _at all_. This was no ordinary woman he could ignore…and he found himself not wanting to.

He took a step to her, his eyes rolling closed as her hot breath prickled the skin on his throat. Darkness engulfed him as she plunged into the flesh…

Eyes snapping open, Erik touched his neck where the two puncture marks remained. That night he lost everything to pacify a vengeful spirit who now calmly left the world. He was cursed, far worse than the deformity that still was present. He was a monster in every sense, a demon with no chance of mercy.

His gaze dropped to his feet; a pair of bulging frightful eyes staring up and the mouth stuck in a silent scream. Wet dark blood covered the throat and ground.

Erik nudged the body with his toe. _Damn. Got too carried away._

He hated a kill like this. He preferred his meals to be quick and clean. Yet, this old man put up a fight. One, he refused to back down until Erik took decisive action and ripped out his throat. Normally with a fighter he would have compelled him to obey, but Erik was so hungry that the beast was roaring inside, craving the warm rich blood _immediately_.

Sighing, he dropped to his knees and pulled out a handkerchief. He sopped up some of the extra blood and wrapped it around the neck to prevent any more unwanted drips. Secured and knotted, Erik scooped the dead man's arms up and placed one behind his neck with the other around his waist. The face was looking down; perfect for him to pretend he passed out.

Erik tilted his head up and breathed deeply, catching the scent of water nearby. At least he did one good thing—killing his prey close enough to dump the corpse.

It wasn't far and he was nearly home free.

Watching the body ker-plunk into the lake, Erik stood momentarily. In a different lifetime, death was another form of art. Now, it was more of a desire to feed. Of course, it didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun now and then.

Once the body finally settled underneath the water, he turned and began to walk in the direction of his home—beneath the Opera Populaire.

It was hard to believe but it had been a hundred and twenty-five years since Luciana bit him and made him a real creature of the night. Ironic really. He chose to live away from the daylight to shield his face, and now it was no longer a choice, but a necessity to survive. The humor wasn't lost to him after he turned, but it was a lifestyle that he wholly embraced.

He quickened his pace as his senses started to prick at the feel of incoming sunrise. It was an ability that he developed over the years and one that saved him from being too careless when on the hunt. He made it in time and submerged once more into the protective embrace of darkness. Now, he didn't have to hurry to his destination.

As he walked through the tunnels, Erik noticed how time had also aged his beloved opera house. It had been a place of comfort, but for the last century, it was only a reminder of the loves of his former life.

Oh yes… Luciana did have her revenge.

TBC…

Oh yeah, I wasn't kidding about the little twists. Hee hee.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: A big shout out to my first two reviewers—RedDeathLvr and SarahNoir! Thank you so much! As you will soon see, this isn't going to be like other Vampire Erik stories. You know the drill so make me happy and leave behind some lovely reviews.

**Chapter 2**

_The pain was brief but right away he knew something was wrong. _

_Something **dreadfully** wrong. _

_Gazing towards the black-hair vixen, Luciana smirked as his blood… **his**! dribbled down her mouth and chin. Her fangs glistened as he trembled with the words she spoke next:_

"Now… you will destroy all that you loved."

_In an instant, she was gone. He lifted a hand to the juncture where his neck met shoulder, finding fresh blood. Staring transfixed by the brightening red, he felt a shudder as his body lurched and screamed with pain. _

_Falling to his knees, he held his head as his heart began to beat faster and faster. A thunderous drone roared in his ears, his sight blurring as a thick fog settled over him. Gasping and crying out, he succumbed to the dizzying sensations that swarmed all around. _

_His mouth felt heavy and ached as a foreign substance slitter down, stabbing his lower lip and scratching his mask. With a roar, he ripped it off and jumped to his feet._

_He felt…odd but as his mind began to clear; a wondrous and amazing feeling took over. _

_He could hear, see, smell, and taste the world around him. The choking aroma of the ladies of the night perfumes permeated the atmosphere; the whispered secrets and promises were heard as if they stood by him. But the best that sent tingly crawls down his spine was the scent of blood-blood that boiled and flowed with pure ecstasy._

_He turned and stalked towards the direction of the delicious smell where he could hear a female crying out in ecstasy…_

Erik started in his coffin. What could pass as a mist glazed his eyes as the memory of his first feeding frenzy replayed in his tormented mind. Christiana's horrified look would forever haunt him as he sunk his teeth into her pulsing throat. Later, he discovered that Luciana had compelled him to kill her, but it didn't matter that he wasn't in control of his facilities. The fact remained—he had killed the love of his life. Of his _mortal _life. And as a result, he also destroyed his other love—Music.

After Christiana's death, his inspiration was gone. No longer could he listen to the glorious music of the night. It had left him, abandoned him to an eternity of emptiness and loneliness.

Everyday, every night as he walked the earth Erik could never forget that dreadful night after he turned. He knew that was Luciana's intent and he was truly stuck in Hell. Without his music, he was nothing.

With a roar, Erik fled the opera house. His sanctuary was a shell, a place to hide during the day, but when he could roam free, he had to escape.

The night was calm, the moon bright. And he wasn't alone.

Passing by was a young couple that thought it would be romantic for a midnight stroll, holding hands as the man bent down to whisper and kiss his girlfriend.

Last night's kill still flowed through his veins and he didn't need to feed, but looking at the passionate display before him only made him want to turn their happiness into cries of horror.

Yet… the notion didn't have the appeal like it used to when he stumbled upon other couples.

They were rather fortunate.

As he hurried past them, he sensed the girl's piercing eyes at his back and the rising scent of arousal. It made him smirked that only he could cause such emotion while her paramour's kiss couldn't do the trick. He could turned around and easily take her from her lover, but tonight… his mind was filled with his embittered memories and he wished to be alone.

After being bitten, his looks were transformed back to when he was a younger man, erasing the aging marks. His body altered too; adding more muscle to his arms and legs, as well as making his thin, wispy hair longer and fuller. Despite his deformity remaining the same, he was the very essence of a seductive predator of the night. The mask served to add to his mysterious allure that all of his female victims couldn't help but fall for. He didn't even have to use his compulsion to make them fulfill his wishes.

Well… until they discovered what he was.

There was one time when he asked one of his victims, a silly girl from the ballet who was too naïve for her own good, what was worse—his face or the blood-thirsty creature? He never did get the answer he was looking for… she spent her last remaining seconds screaming as he ripped into her. That's all they ever do. They scream at the sight of his disfigurement and they scream at the sight of his fangs. The only ones who might be willing to answer his question would be his own kind now.

Erik knew there were others like him that existed, but he never had the fortune in crossing paths with one. Luciana was the one and only vampire he ever met. Even though his Creator abandoned him, Erik was capable enough to teach himself how to hunt and to control the blood lust. Adaptation was a skill of survival that he picked him at a younger age, and it worked to his benefit in his newfound un-life.

Despite the basic necessities, there was so much more for him to learn that he couldn't get from instincts alone.

As years went by, he read plenty about his kind from mythology and folklore to fiction as well as through experimentation. He didn't know much in his former life except the old myths regarding vampires and Bram Stoker's _Dracula_. And from what he learned and experienced, some lore was true while others were false.

He could survive the early sunlight, but when the sun reached its highest peak it was best for him to take shelter. He didn't have to feed every night; typically, a good kill would last him several days before the hunger pangs would return. However, if he fasted too long, then the consequences would be very messy indeed. And Erik loathed cleaning a kill in that type of aftermath. He preferred a quick kill with little bloodshed for him wipe up.

In addition, he needed an invitation to be allowed into homes, which he hardly bothered to do to get a meal. Then when it came to hallowed places or sacred items, they had little effect over him. Even the touch of silver didn't leave any brand marks. Wooden stakes? Well… he did have an incident where he curiously drove a pike into his thigh rendering him unconscious for a couple hours. And mirrors… he still had his reflection.

As for supernatural-like powers, Erik was stronger than he ever was and he could move much faster. He had always been agile, even at an older age, and this ability was enhanced tenfold. It allowed for a quick escape if a passerby should see him feed and to stalk his prey. The game of cat and mouse was one he thoroughly enjoyed and the heightened sense of fear made the blood all the more sweeter to his taste-buds.

He was certainly a better version of his former life, but he was still lonely. Without his muse, he had no music to create. Without his music, he was a monster with a mask. It would seem that God only saw it fit to punish him as well when Luciana returned. Any music he attempted to write was _unworthy_. Even his beloved _Don Juan Triumphant _became sour to his ears and he had no choice but to destroy it.

After Christiana's death, Erik fled Paris for a few years. He had to get away, but no matter where he turned, he always ended back at the opera house. So he remained as society went through its wars, scandals, and fads. He even took advantage of his skills to build up his wealth. It was a hobby more than anything, instead of a livelihood. He was able to cheat in casinos, rob drunken fools blind, and invest in any stocks that interested him. And when he decided to use his funds, he would travel somewhere else to take in the local cuisine.

He kept the money in various accounts and under different aliases. Being immortal, he was careful to make sure his money was protected and he didn't withdraw too much. If someone became too suspicious, then he would either compel them to forget or they would simply end up at the end of his fangs.

Yet, as he roamed the parks of Paris, Erik found the sights becoming tedious. He knew this city like the back of his hand and it no longer held the same interest it once had. Even his beloved opera house was losing its splendor in his eyes, a thought he never thought possible.

He sensed the restlessness growing within him and he knew it was time to go somewhere else. He already traveled everywhere in Europe, Asia, and the Middle East. So far, the only country he had yet to visit, but had heard so often on his travels was America.

_Yes_, he thought. _I think this is a good time than any to see what the land of Opportunity has for me._

xxXXxx

Joseph Buquet was a peculiar man.

At forty-five, he looked like he was in his sixties. Bushy salt-and-pepper hair, wild brown eyes, with wrinkles creasing his weathered skin; Buquet enjoyed taking long walks through Central Park during the night; searching for what he loved most: bugs.

Flies, mosquitoes, fireflies, butterflies, ladybugs, cockroaches, you name it. He loved them all.

Ever since he was a child, Buquet would read countless books, journals, and articles about the _insectum_. He would go out and collect various species and study them in glass jars. When he was thirteen, he was forced by his older brother to eat a beetle he found crawling around the house. Buquet found the taste not to be as bad as he might thought; although, he would never admit that to anyone.

So when he grew older, Buquet joined the NYPD as one of the forensic scientists. Whenever a case called to have an insect or larva identified, Buquet was the man the department turned to. He was the best of them all (despite having his eccentricities); solving a great deal of homicide cases, including the Javert case where the man was choked to death by a rather large black widow spider. It was sealed with the evidence of the eggs left in the larynx.

Yes, Buquet was a needed member of the force. There was not a single person in the city, perhaps, the whole nation, who had the abilities like he had. Yet, that didn't seem to matter when his superiors forced him to take a sabbatical after he had The Incident.

It was a nice, formal way of telling Buquet he was about to be fired. It wasn't his fault The Incident happened. If only people learned to stay out of other people's business, then he wouldn't be looked upon with disgrace.

It was a secret he kept from his colleagues, but he was diagnosed with schizophrenia. Sometimes he wouldn't take his medicine, but he was still able to function properly. No one had a single clue. But he knew he couldn't go too long without taking a pill, which was why he kept a bottle hidden in his locker.

Well, some young punk new to the Forensics Department believed Buquet had something up his sleeve that explained his successes. He brushed it off as a kid who was envious, but didn't realize that he was being watched just so he could be caught in some slip up.

As it was, ever since Buquet had a taste of that beetle, he discovered that other insects were just as tasteful. No, he didn't go around and eat any bug in plain sight. That was weird and he was a professional. Instead, he had a stash of cricket goodies in his locker, which he would grab one or two to munch on. They were a good source of protein and he did hear from somewhere that supposedly insects could possess the key to immortality. He doubted that was true, but if it did prove to be so, then that was a bonus.

As it happened, the kid caught him with his hand in the jar. He used some camera on his phone to record the whole thing. After Buquet had his snack, he took his pill. It didn't take long to do the research to see what kind of pill that was.

So the punk ass kid confronted Buquet and it led to a fight where the latter beat the crap out of the former. Buquet didn't mean to. He lost his temper and he couldn't control himself.

His superior, Thomas Seward, was upset to hear that one of his brilliant scientists got into this mess. He tried to tell Buquet that there was a lot of pressure from Internal Affairs and his bosses suggested Buquet take the sabbatical so things would cool over.

Buquet appreciated Seward's concern for him, but they both knew that Buquet wouldn't be coming back. He was a liability, a loose cannon, and the PD couldn't have that on the streets, even if he was only an investigator.

Seward suggested he check in at a hospital, but Buquet laughed it off. He maybe a little "nuts," but he didn't need any care from a hospital.

So now, Buquet lived off his paycheck until he could return for "an early retirement" to get his pension. It was Seward's way to make sure that Buquet left with his dignity intact. With all the free time he had on his hands now, he was grateful he lived fairly close to Central Park for him to conduct his nightly hunts.

"Where are you my lovely?" Buquet crooned, squatting down on the cement. "I won't hurt you…much."

Digging into his coat pocket, he pulled out an empty baby food jar and quickly unscrewed the top. There was a hefty looking spider that darted from the grass, one that Buquet had to have.

He squinted, keeping his body in a stiff position, waiting for the spider to reappear. On cue, the black-bodied arachnid ran out causing Buquet to jump, crushing his palm on the ground. A soft, squishy sensation charged through his arm as Buquet let out a curse.

Lifting his hand, half of the spider laid on the concrete while the other half was stuck to his palm. After a while, a ragged sigh escaped his lips as he mumbled, "Oh well."

Buquet's tongue flew out to lick the remains off his hand. He swallowed and regrettably stared at the ground. He shouldn't waste what was left. So, he used the lid of the jar to scrap it up, and making sure no one noticed, he closed his lips over it and sucked in the rest. _So good. Although, it would have been better if I was able to take it home and study… _

A pair of footsteps interrupted his thoughts. Lifting his head, Buquet was face-to-face, no…rather face-to-foot with a pair of black boots. Slowly, he gazed up the tall, sturdy body all covered in ebony up to a bemused expression of one visible half a face and a scowling mask covering the other half.

Gulping, Buquet continued to stare at the stranger, unease and trepidation tumbling in his stomach. He may have been part of the force, but the only times he came in contact with criminals was during their trials. He never had a reason to fear them until… now.

Everything about the stranger screamed criminal, but Buquet couldn't move. All he could do was helplessly stare into the blue-green eyes that were hinted with golden specks. They were such an unusual shade of color and with such an intense fix reminded him of the iridescent beetle. _He kind of looks like one_, he thought absent-mindedly. Buquet's brown eyes grew large.

Save for the mask, the stranger's built was strong and muscular—like the shell. The eyes were round as well as large; the sclera (the white around the irises) wasn't seen at all—bug-eyes.

The more he stared, the more he believed that this man once was a beetle, perhaps a god in a former life. The longer he stared, the more Buquet felt drawn to this man with a mask.

"You would do," the dark, tumbling voice murmured. "I need a man to be my eyes and ears during the day. You will listen and obey."

"I will listen and obey," Buquet repeated.

Erik grinned. Oh yes… this man would be very useful.

"Good. In return for your loyalty and obedience, I will make sure you are greatly rewarded."

"Yes… I will be loyal and obedient. Anything of mine will be yours," he replied, without blinking.

This was getting better and better. "Very well. I will need a place to stay—"

"Buquet," the older man answered. "Joseph Buquet. My home isn't far from here."

"Splendid. Now I have something that's going to require help moving. Follow me."

Buquet jumped to his feet and trailed behind the mysterious figure in black.

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hi everyone! Well, I would have posted this a lot sooner but I was distracted by the awesomeness of the 25th Anniversary of _Phantom of the Opera_! Ramin Karimloo is now my new favorite Phantom! *Squeals*

Thank you to SarahNoir and landofnarnia for the kind reviews! You will certainly be seeing cameos from characters in _Dracula _too and I think you would like the one I included this chapter. Also, here we meet Christine! Finally, right? Then it will be time for some Erik and Christine goodness… in good time of course.

Any who, this chapter is a little short, but I can be persuaded to have the next chapter up soon if you know what I mean. So feed a starving writer and give her reviews!

**Chapter 3**

"Damnit," Christine Daaé muttered, searching her purse for her keys. "I could have sworn I put them in here!"

Mumbling another curse, the petite woman pulled out a hair pin and unwound the wire. Sticking it into the lock, she jiggled it until the door popped open. Pushing it, she spotted the keys sitting on the side table next to her couch. Stifling a sigh, she shuffled in dropping her heavy duffel bag and kicking the door closed.

Shrugging off her jacket, she hung it on the wall and stalked towards the keys. Just as she reached out to grab them, a blurry mass of black fur leapt passed her with a yowl.

Christine jumped back and glared at the culprit for scaring her. A pair of gleaming yellow eyes stared back, tail flicking languidly.

"Trying to give me a heart attack Van Helsing?" The feline's reply was a yawn, Christine rolled her eyes. "Thank you for the concern. Remember, I'm the hand that feeds you."

The sudden refreshed memory had Van Helsing scurry to her leg, rubbing and purring. Shaking her head, Christine scratched behind his ear before sending him away with a swat to his hindquarters. "Crazy cat." She shook her head as she went into the kitchen.

The time on the microwave glowed 12:55 as she started to heat some water for tea as her achy limbs winced, reminding her of the too long night.

Though, she had no room to complain about her working hours. Box Five was the perfect gig for someone with her expertise and she was one of the best singer/waitresses the club had. Oh yeah, it was a rowdy night like always, but the paycheck and tips paid her rent and bills. It was enough of a reminder of why she put up with the wild patrons.

Not only that but it was the opportunity she hoped would get her noticed. Mina Murray, the famed Broadway sweetheart, once worked at Box Five where she was approached by an agent. And this dream wasn't just Christine's, but nearly the entire staff. Her chances were good, even though her biggest competitor was Carlotta Giudicelli.

Christine cringed by the mere thought of that…that off-key _cow_. Unbelievably, Angus the boss was the one who hired the Italian "singer" who would spend most of her time arguing about what songs to perform, etc. Another hard thing to believe was that as much as Carlotta broke the rules, Angus never made the attempt to fire her, but firing who Carlotta says. She tried to get Christine booted out, but Angus was smart enough to say no, a firm _no_. And since Carlotta didn't have her way, she was determined to sabotage Christine's career.

At first, it had been little things like a costume going missing or an accessory that she needed for her hair or for a song. Then it turned to downright vindictiveness. Christine was unable to prove it, but she swore that Carlotta had to have been responsible for making her lose her voice. She had felt fine until she began to sing and all that came out was a croak. Thankfully, Angus was able to redirect the audience to another singer. Not Carlotta, which was a godsend, but to another girl.

Despite the Italian's heinous tricks, Christine strove to be the bigger person and refused to let the other singer's antics get to her. It was satisfying to see Carlotta's outrage when something didn't go her way. And the croak bit only happened the one time. If she did it again, then Christine couldn't promise she would keep her restraint.

Kettle boiling, Christine poured out the hot water and began dipping the Orange Spice teabag until the liquid was a light tan.

Lifting the cup to her lips, she inhaled the spicy scent and was interrupted by an impatient growl. Setting her drink on the counter, Christine went into the cupboard for Van Helsing's treats.

"Heaven forbid I should rest before his snack," she murmured, though failing to suppress the grin. He was a handful, but not in a trouble-making way. Van Helsing was spoiled, used to routines, a mistake on her part when he was a cuddly kitten and Meg Giry was her roommate.

Those were the good times. Oh, they still continued but it wasn't the same anymore when Meg moved in with her then boyfriend now fiancé.

_Four more weeks_, Christine thought with a smile. _I'm so happy for her._

Yes she was happy for her best friend and Lord knows it was about time Meg found a decent man. After endless close calls and the occasional stiff, Meg found all she could ever need in Artie Morris. An aspiring entrepreneur, Artie was doing famously with his antique store. Meg was ecstatic when he asked her to be his business partner (along with other things).

But there was a part of Christine that resented the fact that their engagement took place after only dating for six months, while she was heading into year number seven with Raoul de Chagny.

She wasn't the only one surprised by the sudden engagement. Meg thought that Christine would have been the first one down the aisle. Unfortunately, it was the luck of the draw and Artie's willingness to commit. Sure Raoul was committed to Christine in that he never cheated on her; however, when it came to anything permanent long term wise… that was another story.

They had their reasons, of course. Mainly, it was about their careers. In this day and age, it was better to be financially stable before taking that dive. Artie was doing well for himself and he had enough to support Meg and him so it made sense for them to marry now. Yet, Christine held out to hope that Raoul would propose one day. She understood if they didn't have a wedding right away, which was fine, but was an engagement too much to ask for?

She supposed most of it had to do with the right time. And Raoul wasn't around as much he would have liked considering he was recently promoted to NYPD's homicide division.

Christine collapsed on the couch, stretching out her legs as she propped them up on the coffee table, and swallowed some of her tea. Van Helsing was off to the side near her collection of movies, cleaning his paws as a contented purr rumbled in his chest.

She slowly nursed her drink, settling deeper into the cushion. She was too hyped up from work to sleep and debated putting on a movie. Lord knows she had more choices than the local video store. Meg often teased her about how often she would grow tired of what she owned and would buy new DVDs only to have them become tedious after a few weeks.

But the movies she could never grow bored of were her vampire films.

When Christine was a child, she grew up with the Universal monsters, Alfred Hitchcock, Vincent Price, Lon Chaney (senior and junior), Bela Lugosi, Boris Karloff, and horror films of all kinds. Her parents were horror junkies, which was passed on to their daughter. Guaranteed, whenever a scary movie came out, one would find Christine Daaé front and center. While five-year-olds were terrified of the dark and the Boogeyman, Christine watched George Romero's _Night of the Living Dead_ and giggled at the "silly zombies."

Yet her favorite of the nighttime creeps were the vampires, which she indulged in frequently.

About every vamp film ever made she had, even the really terrible ones. No matter the quality of the film or the plot, they were vampires and she loved them. In her room, she had at least several bookshelves reserved for her Anne Rice, Lyndsay Sands, Nina Bangs, Kelley Armstrong, Anita Blake, Charlaine Harris, L.J. Smith, Stephanie Meyer, Bram Stoker, and Stephen King collections. She loved the supernatural just as much as she loved classical music and it was fitting she would have a pet named after a character in her favorite book.

Meg never understood her queer fascination with the undead beings. Then again, Meg wasn't too keen with the horror or blood gushing. To Christine, there was always something about the sensual creatures that attracted her interest. What she couldn't pin exactly the reason why, but she enjoyed reading and watching them.

Without further thinking, she opted for Wes Craven's sexy _Dracula 2000_. It was a bit corny, even though the plotline was different and the acting a bit goofy at times; yet Gerard Butler stole the limelight in every scene and he was to hot to boot.

As soon as she pushed the DVD in, Christine heard a crash.

Looking up over the TV, out the window from behind, she could see nothing in the apartment across from her. Even from the filtered moonlight and the scarce lighting of her home, the residence on the other side appeared… eerie.

She wasn't the type to think bad about a person, but her neighbor, Joseph Buquet gave her the creeps. She only knew him thanks to Raoul, but not even he knew the man all that well. Unfortunately, she did hear about the Incident that put him on sabbatical.

She looked closer into the other apartment, but it was too dark to see what caused that crash.

Suddenly, without warning, a pair of striking amber orbs glowed from inside. They were brilliantly sharp, poised with a glint of predatory hunger, and detached coldness. So cold… despite the hot contrast of their color.

Christine's heart pounded loudly, her body frozen as the suspended orbs stared back at her. Her sore muscles didn't ache as a numbing sensation took over, making her feel quite weak and helpless.

Then in a flash they were gone, breaking the spell that trapped her. It was enough after regaining her senses that Christine made a dash to close the blinds, check all her locks on her windows and doors, all the while forgetting the movie for bed.

She could watch it later.

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Okay… so this wasn't as fast like I promised, but it was within the same week so I'm going to count it. Thank you to everyone for reading, making this their favorite story, and for the nice comments! This is definitely different from past stories I've written, but if you like this… then you might like my original story _Pearl_. It's a vampire story too, but like anything I write, I like to make it different and shocking. Like this one, I do play with the vampire mythology and you will find there are some differences between Erik and my vampire. You can find the link on my profile. Warning: _Pearl _is not a romance.

Hope you check it out and enjoy this chapter! One last note, please take note of the M rating. The end of the chapter gets a little crazy. That's all I'm going to share. *skips away*

**Chapter 4**

Buquet's home wasn't much to be desired, but Erik knew if he was going to stay, then changes needed to be made. _Immediately. _For one, the bug collection had to go. The walls were decked out with various frames of insects ranging from butterflies, to moths, to spiders, to beetles, to crickets, etc. Then any space found on shelves, counters, and tables was covered with jars and aquarium tanks with the insects crawling around, spinning webs, and making cocoons.

As much respect Erik had for the unlikeable creatures, he couldn't stand being surrounded by them. As soon as Buquet started to turn the light on, Erik seized his wrist, digging his nails into the skin in a cruel hold. He didn't want to bring attention to himself, especially since the neighbor across was home, judging by the lights.

However, it didn't matter because Buquet dropped his coffin.

"S-s-sorry," he stuttered, his eyes wavering. "I-I d-didn't—"

"Forget it," Erik growled. "Put it in the nearest bedroom and try not to make too much ruckus."

"Y-yes." Buquet turned around to reach for the six-foot coffin and carefully dragged it down the hall to the first room on the left.

While Buquet was busy it left Erik time to survey the rest of his new humble abode.

There was another apartment complex directly across from them, which would help avoid contact with the direct sunlight. Yes, he definitely chose wisely with this man.

Using his keen eyes, Erik looked around and shuddered at the furniture. Well, for one thing, the location was perfect but the place itself was lacking. The bugs had to go and so did the plush sofa with the stains of beer, pizza, and he didn't want to think what the other fluids might be.

As Erik scanned the room, making mental notes on what would be replaced, a startling sight caused him to stop.

In the apartment across stood a woman, staring right at him! Erik's tongue absently ran over his lips as he drank in the beautiful woman's frightened countenance.

She had unruly brown curls that fell to her waist, wide forget-me-not blue eyes, and full ruby lips against her pale complexion. She was thin, not painfully thin, but perfect for her form with tone arms and small breasts pressed against her tank top.

Erik could feel the bloodlust rolling through him and the scent of her arousing fear only made her blood the more appetizing. He couldn't tell how tall she was, with her currently looking over her television, but he estimated no taller than his six feet two inches.

He breathed in deeply as his incisors lengthened for the anticipated flesh. Yet, the more he gazed at her, the more he felt a sense of familiarity. It couldn't be… It had been years, but he could never forget her face. The girl looked like his Christiana! The only difference was Christiana had fairer hair, but everything else was the same. Those eyes! How they sparkled!

If that wasn't simply amazing, then in the distance, he could hear the strings of an aria playing in his mind.

His fangs quickly went away as the sensation sent him reeling. It had been too long since he could hear the music, and after all this time, there it was standing before him.

Yet, before he could process it further, the woman had already blocked her apartment with the blinds.

But it was too late.

He saw her and it was enough for his blackened heart and dead soul to stir. It was just like the first time he saw Christiana all over again. He knew deep down it couldn't really be her. He watched the life fade from her eyes and he had stayed… hoping she would wake.

"Excuse me."

Erik whirled around to find Buquet looking at him strangely. "Is everything all right? Is this not good enough?"

"No. No, this is well," Erik answered tersely, then pointed. "The girl who lives across from here. Who is she?"

Buquet raised his eyebrow. "The brunette? Christine, I believe, don't know her last name. There was also a blonde who lived there too M… Maggie? Melissa?"

"Christine…" Erik breathed, ignoring the rest Buquet said. God, even the names sounded the same.

Buquet smiled widely in satisfaction. "I see she's caught your eye too. Can't blame you. She's a looker all right, especially in those little tight things—"

"SILENCE!" Erik barked, causing the older man to jump. "You will not speak of her in that way. Do I make myself clear?"

Buquet dipped his head in supplication. "Y-yes. May I ask why?"

"Do NOT question me," Erik growled. "I need to go out. When I'm gone, I want you to start clearing these insects out."

"But… they are my collection—"

Erik grabbed his shoulders, his nails biting into the skin as he stared into Buquet's eyes. "You WILL get rid of them and in the morning you will replace the rest of this garbage you call furniture as well. I'm going to need room for a piano and sheets to write."

Buquet nodded meekly. "It will be done."

"Good. I'll be back before the sun rises. Make sure my coffin is ready."

It was time to hunt.

xxXXxx

The music was thumping; Sean Paul's "Temperature" blasted through the speakers, creating a frenzy of twisting and grinding bodies. The strobe lights from the ceiling flickered at rapid speeds to stir up the crowd.

Sheila Grace, twenty-one year old sophomore of NYU, pushed her way through the gyration and stumbled towards the bar. Tonight she should have been in her dorm studying for her Environmental Science test, which she needed to pass desperately. Her counselor already discussed the consequences if she was to lose this credit and she couldn't afford to fail. Yet, her roommate Trish persuaded her to close the books to go to Box Five for a couple hours. It was a habit of her roommate's that wasn't doing much for Sheila at all. She downed a glass of water and realized this so-called break went on far too long as she glanced at the clock to see how late it was.

Scanning through the people, she tried to locate Trish to no avail. _Damn! I'm screwed! I knew I shouldn't have let her keep the keys_, Sheila thought irritably.

Turning back to the bar, her attention was caught by a piercing reflection from the dance floor. Staring into the bar's mirror, Sheila got a glimpse of a tall figure in black before he disappeared. She frowned and shook her head. _Great. Now I'm seeing things too._

"Hello."

Sheila whirled around, almost slamming into the person behind her.

"I'm so sor—" Her voice trailed off as her eyes reached his face.

The lights didn't help her get a distinct look, but she noticed his broad muscular torso; long, tousled jet black hair sweeping over his shoulders and two beautiful golden eyes she had ever seen. He wore a white mask that covered half of his right side of his face, although she barely saw it. All her focus was on his strange eyes…

"Would you care to dance?" he asked huskily, a gloved hand held out for her.

"Uh-huh," Sheila gurgled, her hand slipping into his.

His lips curled as he led her out just as Lady Gaga's "Teeth" started. He took her to the center of the dance floor and suddenly pulled her against his chest, his hips rotating to the beat.

Shelia shuddered, her body losing all control and she felt like she was going to fall were it not for the strong arms wrapped around her waist. Her eyelids drooped as she managed to get her arms to go around his neck. Together, they grinded to the music front-to-front until her partner twirled her around so her back was pressed against him.

She moaned as his mouth dropped to her ear, nipping at the lobe. Her knees wobbled, but his hand snuck out to lay fully pressed to her belly, closing any space left between them as he brought her closer. His warm breath tickled her skin and he buried his face into her hair.

"You smell delicious," he growled, thrusting ever slowly into her backside. "So good..."

"Hmmm…" she murmured in return, her eyes now closed tightly. "S-Shelia." She whimpered her name and gasped as she quickly was turned around again.

His face was so close, his lips an inch away. "Shelia," he repeated in his velvet tone.

Heat began pooling, wetness gathering in the center of her thighs from the mere sound of his voice. Never had she ever felt this abandoned recklessness of lust towards a stranger before.

"Come with me," he whispered, his amber orbs sparkled with desire. "Come… Sheila."

"Yes."

Her consent was eagerly met as he pulled her away from the crowd, her feet moving on their own matching his speed. _Maybe skipping the studying wasn't such a bad idea_, she thought half-dreamily as they went outside.

Her masked companion leaned her up against a brick wall in an alleyway; his hot mouth capturing her lips in a mind-shattering kiss. Her fingers went to his hair, tangling and twisting as his hands ran down her curves, his tongue driving into her as a groan erupted within her.

His mouth dipped, nipping and licking her throat as he sucked the flesh near her pulse-point. Sheila moaned with pleasure as she tilted her head back, giving his questing mouth more access. Her moans became louder as she felt the scrape of his teeth against her skin, her blood racing hot as she made a scramble for his zipper.

His hands snuck up into her skirt, traveling upwards as she whimpered with anticipation. At the same time his fingers dove into her his teeth plunged into the salty skin.

Shelia's jaw dropped wordlessly, her eyes wide-opened. Dots appeared before her as her orgasm rocketed through her body over, over, and over. An intense fulfillment swept over, her senses clouding as the afterglow brought her down…

Down…

Down…

The sounds only left were Erik… drinking whatever essence that remained.

TBC…


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Wow… I think this is the third time I changed my summary. Well, it never sounded right to me, but this time I like it. Lol, random I know. Thank you everyone for reviewing and marking this as their favorite story! I'm glad that so many of you are enjoying this story and fun is only starting… hee hee.

On a side note, I went to the theaters to see _Love Never Dies_ last week and it was A-MAZING! Of course, I like Ramin but Ben Lewis did a decent job as the Phantom. And it's going to be playing again this Wednesday so yeah I'm going to be there again. Oh… le obsessive, yes? Anyways, I give you another chapter and don't forget to review!

**Chapter 5**

Christine slept in to almost noon, feeling completely rejuvenated. She came walking out of her bedroom in her spaghetti strapped shirt and shorts; the first thing she did was open the blinds to let in some sun. Van Helsing was already waiting by his food dish, meowing loudly so Christine could feed him.

"Morning… well afternoon I guess," she greeted and first got his breakfast fixed before making hers. Grabbing some cereal and orange juice, Christine sat on her couch and turned on the TV. After flipping through a few channels she switched on her DVD player. As the credits began rolling, her phone started to ring.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Hey baby."

"Raoul!" Christine couldn't hold back the huge grin on her face. "I was just thinking of you."

He chuckled. "Same here. But… there's something I need to tell you."

Her face fell. "You can't make it to dinner? Raoul, tonight's our—"

"Don't worry I'll be there, but it's something much more important."

She sat up, her brows creasing in confusion. "More important?"

"Christine, last night someone was killed outside Box Five."

Christine gasped, her eyes growing big with alarm. "What! Who?" As she spoke, her mind was processing the worse as she tried to remember who she knew was there after she left work.

"It wasn't someone you know. From what the Captain has said it was a college girl, but I can't disclose too much information. I wanted you to know about this before it hits the news."

"Right. Oh my God." Christine couldn't believe it. Someone was killed where she worked? And to think, she was there probably serving the victim or killer!

She shuddered. Bringing her legs to her chest, she continued to listen as Raoul spoke.

"You might be called in for questioning, but the time the murder took place was after your shift. But I do want you to think carefully about you did at the club and to be on your guard when you go to work. It could have been random, but I'm not taking that risk if it's not. I'm going to try and pull a few strings to see if we can have an extra officer on guard until the investigation is over."

Christine nodded. "Okay."

"You know the weirdest part? I saw the coroner this morning, and man, was he pale! I haven't seen the body but from what I heard it wasn't pretty."

"Raoul, please—"

"I know. I'm sorry babe. I'll see you tonight. Love you."

"Love you too. Bye."

They disconnected. Christine rested her chin on her knees as she thought about Raoul's disturbing news. She still found it hard to believe that this happened. Box Five never had anything like this happen. An occasional fistfight but that was it.

Shivering once more, Christine tried not to think about it and un-paused the movie. Gerard Butler would help keep it off her mind, just for the time being.

As the first bad guy was killed in the crypt, Christine couldn't help but briefly glance out the window to the apartment across. The two glowing orbs from last night had given her the chills. She wondered if she imagined them, after all it was late and she was tired… but she couldn't shake the feeling that it felt all too real and they were watching her.

"For God's sake. You're being silly Christine Daaé," she scolded herself. Yet, as she looked out she saw that there was a new couch and TV and were all those bugs gone?

She was relieved that Buquet's odd collection wasn't there, but why would he get rid of them so suddenly? Most of them were dead, but maybe someone complained enough that the super made him? Made sense. But what about that crash she heard? Did something happen? And then there were those orbs…

Quickly, she looked away.

xxXXxx

"Oh my God!" Meg Giry exclaimed her jaw dropping as Christine rehashed what Raoul told her. Meg had worked at the club with Christine until she became engaged to Artie. Being his partner, she didn't have the time to continue singing or dancing, but that didn't mean she lost her ties there.

The curly-top blonde shook her head as her hands gripped her latte. "That's horrible! Did Raoul say anything else?"

"No but he said it will be on the news today." She pursed her lips as another thought entered her head. "Raoul did mention something about the coroner. Apparently he was freaked out or something."

"With what those guys must see everyday it has to be one major shocker to scare him," Meg remarked. "Well, Angus won't be too happy about this but I'm sure the extra publicity will bring in more business."

Christine agreed. "Yeah. Him turning a tragedy into profit. Nothing changes unfortunately. I mean, look at Carlotta."

"That's one tragedy everyone can do without," Meg commented. "I'm so glad and I don't have to put up with her bull anymore."

"Lucky you. Meanwhile, your best friend is stuck until something happens to make it go away."

"You're way better than she is. Everyone knows, even Angus and Carlotta I bet. I think that's why she bugs you."

"Yip-yee," Christine muttered, sipping her tea. Setting her drink down, she gazed at Meg, her demeanor became solemn. "Meg. You know that guy across from the apartment. Joseph Buquet?"

"Yeah. Why?"

The dark-haired woman sighed. "I was coming home from work and I heard this loud crash. When I looked over I saw these two golden orbs, practically floating mid-air."

Meg choked. "A-are you serious?"

"Completely. And they were staring right at me until they vanished. Then when I woke up I saw his bug collection was gone."

"I say someone at last told the super about it. I understand if you want to keep on the walls, but all those jars and tanks? Yikes."

"Yeah. But… the oddest thing was those orbs. I felt like I was being watched."

"Perhaps the neighborhood's friendly pervert decided to show his true colors."

"Meg!" Christine scolded. "C'mon he's not a pervert. Lonely, yes, but he's never done anything."

"That we don't know."

"He's a cop. Sort of."

"The job doesn't stop people from being perverts."

"Okay, fine. But it was so strange."

"I think you've been watching too many horror films. I knew there was a reason why I never watched them."

"Meg—"

The blonde shook her head. "Look, it was probably nothing. Now, enough of this and let's head to the florist's and then we can go shopping for a new dress for you tonight. The big 7 for you and Raoul!"

Christine smiled. "Do you think he might propose?"

"Christine. The man's in love with you. Been so this whole time. I think tonight might be the night. Oh! If he does, maybe we can do a double wedding!"

"In such a short time span?"

"Why not? All of my friends are yours. Think about it. Could be fun."

The brunette laughed. "Fine. But we're not doing a double honeymoon."

Meg crinkled her nose. "Wouldn't dream of it."

xxXXxx

The sky was turning dusk by the time Erik arose from his slumber.

Raising his arms over his head, he sensed he was alone in the apartment. Lips stretching into a grin, he walked out to find that some of his requests were already there.

The outdated television was now replaced with a newer and bigger one and had a DVD player underneath it. The original TV stand was also replaced by a sturdy ebony wood. A leather settee replaced the sofa, and the kitchen had a table and chairs made out of the same ebony wood. Lying beside the settee was a box for a new bed-frame with an iron wrought headboard. Next to it was a bag with silk bedsheets and pillows. And lastly (the one he was waiting for), a beautiful grand piano was in the corner of the living room.

He stepped over, his hand grazing the cool, hard surface of the instrument. He closed his eyes and exhaled. It had been far too long since he felt this incredible urge to compose. And it was because of that girl… _Christine_…

He took his seat at the bench. The empty music sheets were already in place with a pen eagerly waiting to write the notes. He flexed his fingers and then began to play. Like a thunderbolt, the shock intensified him as he ran his fingers over the keys, the music pouring out of his soul. It was gentle and harsh, passionate and dark. It wasn't long before Erik realized that his once forgotten _Don Juan _was returning to him.

He seized the pen and wrote furiously as each measure and note flooded his memory. Page after page, Erik frantically kept up the pace as his free hand continued to play the piano. How glorious it was! This was what he missed the most: this wonderful sensation of creating music and bringing it to life. Perhaps, God decided to pity him and return his Music to him. Perhaps, there was a reason for that girl to live where she did…

Erik didn't notice Buquet enter the room until the man sat down and turned the TV on to the evening news.

"_Last night, around two in the morning, police said twenty-one year old Sheila Grace was found dead in an alley outside _Box Five_. The authorities haven't disclosed the nature of her death, but sources are saying it was an attack of some kind. However, there has not been an official statement as of yet. Friends of the victim are stunned by this sudden news, saying that Sheila was a kind, loving person. The fact that someone would do this to her is unthinkable." _

Erik stopped long enough to listen to the report and smirked as Buquet commented, "That's terrible."

"Terrible indeed," Erik said, mostly to himself.

"I wonder if they… no, they won't need me. Not when they have good for nothing, snot-nosed, rubbernecking, ass-kissing…"

Ignoring the older man's ramblings, Erik knew he hadn't taken care of the body like he should have. However, it wasn't his fault for abhorrently ravaging the woman in a mad frenzy. If anyone should be at fault, it was the dark-haired beauty he saw.

Tried as he might, Erik couldn't stop thinking about her. The way the moonlight accented her luminous features and curves… his cold body warmed exceedingly to his dislike. His arousal was determined not to fade so he had no choice but to go out to satiate the demon.

Now, he had another one to serve. But before he could return, he needed to find out more about the girl.

He got up from his seat and walked over to the settee where Buquet sat. Placing his hand on his shoulder, Erik forced the man to look into his face. In a hypnotic voice, he gave the command:

"Tell me everything you know about Christine."

"I know she's the girlfriend of this young detective in homicide… Rolfe or something. French I think. She's a singer at Box Five. I heard her myself and what a voice! When I work, I do like to hear her sing while she does her chores or cooks and that's all I know."

"Box Five, huh? Singer?" So she works at the same club that he visited last night. Not only that, but she was a singer like Christiana. "Interesting…"

"But I don't think it is worth it. She's been dating that fellow for a few years I think. Seems awfully serious and I doubt she would ever leave him after this long—"

"Idiot!" Erik picked him up by his shoulders and shook him. "Did I ask for your opinion? Do you think I care whether or not it's serious? NO!"

Buquet cowered. "I'm-I'm s-s-sorry! I-I d-didn't t-think—"

"No, you didn't!" Erik dropped him forcefully, causing Buquet to fall to the ground. "Now leave! I want to be alone!"

He nodded with a whimper, scurrying to his feet to escape Erik's wrath. Once the door was closed, Erik let out a sigh.

Christine… Christine… Christine…

And what a coincidence too that she was a singer. Was she as good as his Christiana was? He had to hear her to find out, but the anticipation was too exciting. If she was, then what did this mean? Could it really be some new kind of torture?

Or… dared he hope… a second chance?

After all, what were the odds of him choosing to move to New York City and to have his servant live across from her?

Erik was never a believer when it came to destiny, but he was quickly converting to the idea.

Oh! He had to hear her sing! Then perhaps he could have the voice he needed for his opera.

Erik strode over to the window and pulled the heavy curtain to the side to see.

Christine was there. She was running around placing candles in strategic spots in the living room and checking the oven periodically. She was wearing a sultry black dress with a teasingly cut above the knees to expose her luscious legs, and clung to her form in a provocative manner. Her curly tresses was pulled half up and held by a hairclip, the rest was left to dangle at her neck.

He strained himself to get a better look at her kitchen, catching a glimpse of the table decorated with two candles in the center for a brush of a romantic atmosphere.

Apparently, some big to do was taking place and Erik had front row seats.

TBC…


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: _Love Never Dies _was amazing! And it was a sold out show too! Anyways, I'm a little sad to see there was only 1 review for the last chapter. Well, maybe there might be more interest after this one… Either way, I'm not going to stop this story. Hope you like and don't forget to review!

**Chapter 6**

The alarm for the oven went off. Christine carefully pulled out the grilled chicken, the scent of rosemary filling her nostrils. Checking to see it was done she then placed each piece on the plate, and then added carrots and broccoli on each side of the main dish. She set it on the table and went back to collect the rolls she bought and arranged them in a basket. Once those were nestled beside the meal, she lit the candles and did the same for the others all over.

She returned the lighter in the junk drawer, stood back and admired her work. _I believe Meg is right. Tonight seems to be the night where an old life enters a new one._

Smiling, Christine looked at Van Helsing. "Perfect, huh? Now, please, try not to be a troublemaker."

The black feline meowed and dashed off to the open window that led to a tiny balcony, which also served as her fire escape. Christine shook her head. _At least he won't be too much of a nuisance. _

She turned to go back to the kitchen when something flashed out of the corner of her eye. Brows creasing, she looked out to the growing night and found nothing out of the ordinary. The thick curtains that covered the windows of her neighbor's home were drawn, but again… she couldn't see anyone.

Rubbing her bare arms unconsciously, she forced herself to look away. _Maybe Meg's right. Perhaps I have been watching too many horror films._

Letting out a breath of air Christine meandered over to the clock, waiting for Raoul. Dinner was to be at nine and it was already a quarter past. Frowning, she sat in the chair, gazing over at the empty spot. A few minutes passed and Christine got up to open a bottle of wine. Filling her glass and then his, she put the bottle next to the bread and waited. And waited.

She looked over her shoulder for the time. It was nearing nine-thirty.

_He will come. He promised. He's probably doing some last minute paperwork that's all. _

Twenty slow minutes came and went. The food was already cooling and Christine's third glass was half-empty. She rapped her fingers on the table, wondering what on Earth was taking him so long. Decisively, she swallowed the rest of her drink.

_He would have called if he weren't coming. So he is coming, just late. Very late, but he'll come. _

A cruel (and laughable) thought came to mind—at least she wasn't at some restaurant. That had been their third anniversary… and Raoul did eventually show up. About an hour later, but he was there nonetheless. And for the moment, that was all that mattered to Christine. Although, he _did _call saying he was going to be late. Right now the phone hadn't so much rang nor was there a beep from the answering machine.

As if miraculous sensing her thoughts, the phone began ringing. Christine practically fell out of her seat as she rushed to answer it. Grabbing the handset, she eagerly put it to her ear with a breathless, "Hello?"

"Christine? It's me."

"Raoul! Where—"

"At the station still. Christ, babe, I am so sorry," Raoul said softly, his tone all earnest and apologetic. "I just noticed the time and I'm so so sorry."

She heard herself saying, "It's okay," when it really wasn't. She bit her tongue as the many things she wanted to say whirled in her head, waiting to bust forth. But she kept her mouth shut while Raoul told her his excuse.

"You know that murder case at Box Five? Well, it has been a media frenzy all right and a nightmare. The Cap is pissy and since he put me in charge of the case we're doing everything we can to make sure nothing is leaked out of respect for the family. But you know those blood hounds. They smell a delicious story and you can't keep them down. I threw them a bone with the typical stuff. Did you catch the news?"

"Yes… I…" her voice trailed off as a lump rose in her throat. _I will not cry. I will not cry_.

"I'm not sure how long I'll be here, but I promise to make it up to you. How about tomorrow?"

"Sure," Christine murmured, fighting to hold back the tears that were springing to her blue eyes.

"Great! I'll call you later with the specifics."

He hung up, leaving her in a stupefied state as she stared out with a vacant expression. Then in an impulsive moment of rage, she slammed the phone down so hard it bounced and hit the floor. She grabbed the chicken and stuffed it down the garbage and tossed the plate into the sink. Spinning on her heels, she stalked into the living room as the fiery tears burned down her alabaster cheeks.

Christine collapsed on the sofa, burying her face into her lap. The mental mantra couldn't prevent the twenty-eight year old from sobbing like a little child. She wouldn't have been so hurt were it not an important date, but this wasn't the first time he would abandon her for work. Christine seriously doubted the Captain gave it to Raoul right away. Sure, he was good, but not that good. She bet her money that he was the first to jump up and volunteer with a boyish grin.

Christine let out a muffled scream, rocking back and forth. _Why? Why! Why does he do that? He's more excited about that dumb case than me. _

When she realized what she said, she quickly thought, _it is terrible that someone died and I'm sorry for everyone involved but…_ Then the realization hit her like a ton of bricks, her mouth gaping in astonishment.

"He forgot…" Christine whispered. "He didn't bother to say 'Happy Anniversary' or anything. I can't believe it…"

But she could. As eager as he seemed to be earlier, he would have forgotten his own birthday. Shaking her head, she wiped away her tears and stood up. She shed plenty for this dreadful night and she would not think about it or him for the rest of the evening. Let him figure out his mistake. She wasn't going to spell it out for him if she were to "forget" about tomorrow evening.

That helped, albeit somewhat. Christine was no longer crying, even though her face was flushed and red. She wasn't going to waste another thought on Raoul de Chagny.

xxXXxx

Erik had witnessed the entire scene unfolding. So the detective boyfriend didn't show up… all because of Erik. It was practically laughable! And there she was too… so vulnerable and emotional. Now, he knew this had to be some act of luck on his part.

She stopped the waterworks and looked like she was going to retire, when she suddenly climbed out of the window to stand on the iron-grated balcony. Erik had one as well, which the two were very close to one another. He was fortunate to have the shield of darkness on his side to conceal himself from her sight. He pulled the curtain a little over to make sure the upset woman didn't know someone was watching.

Her white hands gripped the railing, her knuckles growing whiter. Her jaw was rigid as her blue eyes became darker and tempestuous. The hair that was pulled up escaped their hold and stuck to her skin while the rest was blowing in the wind.

Erik could smell the pain that radiated from her as a crazy notion to comfort her twitched his hands.

Even that surprised him. After all, him… comfort? That word didn't belong when it came to Erik. Yet, her silent tears and disheartened expression was pulling at his deadened heart.

Could he do something to make this angel smile again?

Erik tensed immediately when his heightened hearing detected a quiet "Is someone there?"

He mumbled an oath for his carelessness and stood with an abated breath, hoping she would let it go and think it was nothing. She said nothing else and he heard the rustle of her dress as she went back into her apartment.

_Too close. Too fucking close- _

The door swung opened as Buquet stumbled in, balancing several bags in his arms. His bumbling had him trip over his foot, toppling down in an ungraceful manner, the bags flying from his grasp. He gazed up at his Master with a fearful expression.

_I don't have time for this! _Erik sighed.

"Get up and ready my bed. I want you to put my coffin in safe keeping and—" He took a whiff of the air and scrunched his face. "And take a bath too."

Buquet nodded. "Yes Master. Yes."

_Out of the whole population in New York City, I had to find the clumsiest bastard who's ever lived._

xxXXxx

Two days passed since the ill-fortunate anniversary. When Christine hadn't showed up at the restaurant for dinner, Raoul quickly soon learned his mistake and sent her a dozen bouquets, cards, and calls with apologies. Christine tossed out the flowers, ripped the cards, and deleted his messages. She couldn't deal with him at the moment.

Meg and Artie were supportive and went to her apartment to check on her. They even took her out for lunch and to a movie to cheer her up. She was glad to have such caring friends and appreciated what they did for her, but she was angry at Raoul. She counted on him to be there and he failed her. That was unforgivable and she would never forget it.

Part of her was telling her she was being childish and should confront Raoul and get it over and done with. The other part wanted to punish him and if giving him the cold shoulder was it, then she would. Yet, no matter what, Christine wasn't sure if she could forgive him as easily as she did in the past.

However, she had another matter that occupied her thoughts. She eventually convinced herself that she was being paranoid like Meg said, but that night when she was on the balcony… the feeling of being watched was so strong it was difficult to ignore. And she saw something move. She was absolute certain that someone _was _watching her.

She didn't know what she was thinking when she asked if someone was there. And who would answer back if they were spying?

She let it go and as night settled, Christine finished up a carton of Chinese while watching _Love at First Bite_ when she heard a screech. Startled, she dropped the food and ran to the open window.

"Van Helsing!" she cried and froze.

Stunned and surprised, a tall figure stood in the balcony opposite of hers, a cat in his arms.

He wore a satin black shirt that rippled across his chest and pants that clung to his legs in the right places to accentuate his lean figure. As her eyes moved up, she noticed he was well over six feet tall with long, wavy ebony hair. His eyes… they were the deepest set of turquoise eyes she had ever seen, the kind that you can easily drown in and you wouldn't care. And oddly enough, the last thing she noticed was that he wore a mask covering his right side of his face.

She blinked, realizing not only was she staring, but she was pretty sure her mouth was gaping too.

Amused, he couldn't help the upward quirk of his lips in a grin. "I take it he belongs to you."

God his voice! Christine had to lean on the bar to keep herself from swooning. He had the most beautiful baritone voice she ever heard, his voice so soft and caressing to her ear!

She swallowed as a tiny "yes" squeaked from her. Blushing, she looked down at her feet.

"Um. T-t-thank you," Christine muttered.

The man chuckled. "No problem. Found the rascal outside my window. It's a good thing it wasn't a far jump."

She glanced up, her cheeks still pink. "I'm sorry. He normally doesn't do that."

"It's fine. At least he didn't hurt himself." Then he smiled at her fully. Could it be possible to die from such a striking smile? Even though he wore a mask it didn't matter. He was undeniably _hot_.

"Yeah." She couldn't stop gushing! What the Hell was wrong with her? Then she remembered that he was standing on the balcony of Buquet's apartment. Did they know each other?

As if reading her mind, he said, "My name is Erik Destler. I'm Joseph Buquet's nephew." He held his hand out to shake hers. "It's a pleasure."

"Christine Daaé," she replied quickly, shaking his hand. "Same here. Nephew?"

"Yes," he answered. "I just moved in to help take care of him."

"He's sick?" she asked with concern.

"Well, he's not well and he's struggling at the moment," Erik said. "I'm the only family he has left and when I heard… I just had to come and make sure he was all right."

She pressed her knees together as he spoke. Damn, that voice was sinful. And his accent… Definitely a double threat. "That's nice to hear. I mean, that's good you would do that for your uncle. Your accent—you wouldn't happen to be French?"

"Good ear," he purred.

She was blushing again. "Well, I couldn't help but notice. My mother was French." Then she remembered how she felt like she was being watched and the words came stumbling out, "I don't mean to be rude, but… have you been watching me? Because I know people—"

"Forgive me. I didn't mean to cause you alarm or make you uncomfortable. Silly really, but I was working up the nerve to introduce myself to you. I would have earlier, but you were either busy or engrossed in something that I didn't want to interrupt. Trust me when I say it was never my intention to scare you."

"I don't know if you 'scared' me, but as long as you drop the spying then I think we have a fighting chance in becoming friends," Christine smiled. "And don't ever be shy around me. I promise I don't bite."

He smirked. "Well, if you promise, then it must be true."

They shared a chuckle before realizing the cat was squirming and meowing loudly.

"Van Helsing! Gosh, I'm sorry if he disturbed you."

"Not at all," he replied, scratching the feline's head before handing him to his owner. "Well here's… Van Helsing?"

"Yeah," Christine said, blushing once more for the millionth time. Wasn't there a switch or something to stop?

"Unusual name for a pet."

"Yeah I, uh, like _Dracula_ and the name sort of popped in my head when I got him." She smiled, hugging the animal close to her chest.

"I like it. I hope being named after the vampire hunter he doesn't go after them."

Christine softly giggled. "No. He still chases mice, but I wouldn't be surprised if he caught a vampire and brought him home. He does have a reputation to live up to."

"Of course," he responded.

"Thank you again. Mr. Des—"

"Please call me Erik."

"Okay. _Erik_," she repeated the warmth in her cheeks not going away. "Then you can call me Christine."

He smiled once more and took a little bow. "Then I shall see you again, _Christine_." The way he spoke her name was like chocolate melting in that rich, silky tone. It sent goosebumps down her arms and a tingling feeling in her belly.

"Yes."

"Good. Farewell and be careful Van Helsing." He winked.

Christine looked down, a little embarrassed and giddy at the drop-dead gorgeous man. By the time she lifted her head, he was gone.

TBC…

They finally meet!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Here we go! I'm glad you liked their meeting and what fun this is going to turn out! What a crazy week this had been. I had a debate and a forensics tournament to judge at, but I was one proud coach to see that most of my forensics kids took home a trophy. Yay! So seeing your reviews will make me one happy person!

As a side warning, this is M rated for a reason.

**Chapter 7**

"So the perverted stalker is a dish, huh? Erik's his name?" Meg teased while the friends were at the bride's final fitting.

"He's shy. So I can let this one slip," Christine replied and stuck her tongue out at the closed curtain. She bet Meg was smirking as her friend called out, "I saw that!"

"Anyways," Christine laughed, "he seems like a nice guy. Maybe a little eccentric."

"How do you figure?"

"He wears a mask," Christine said. "I never seen him take it off."

"Ah, look who's the perverted stalker now."

Christine rolled her eyes. "Okay, so it's my turn to stalk him now. He started it."

"Spoken like a true, mature adult. Now… what do you think?"

The curtain was drawn back and Meg stood proudly in her bridal gown. Christine gasped as the bride-to-be gave a little twirl. The dress was absolutely stunning—a sweetheart cut ball-gown with tiny rhinestones covering the bodice, and small clusters of rhinestones covered the skirt. Even the veil was lovely, which Meg had told her that it had belonged to her grandmother. It was made of lace that fitted with a tiara.

Tears gathered in Christine's eyes at the pure happiness on her friend's face. She looked beautiful.

"Oh Meg!" Christine exclaimed.

The blonde laughed and started to tear up too. "You're making me cry!"

"Well, it's your fault you look incredible," Christine shot back. The alteration's girl quickly got the two friends tissues. Meg dabbed her eyes and asked, "Do you really love it?"

"Yes. Don't get me going on how envious I am," Christine said. "You're going to knock the socks of Artie when he sees you coming down the aisle."

"I hope so. I also hope Mom likes it too."

"Meg, your Mom is going to love it. How can she not?"

"Remember the first time dress shopping? It was such a disaster that she got up and left during my appointment."

"No offense, but she was trying to hijack it."

"Yeah, I know. I really want her to like it too. But you're right. She'll be balling like a baby when the ceremony starts regardless if I'm in a dress or not."

Once the fitting was done, Christine double-checked to make sure her appointment for her Maid of Honor dress was good to go. While she waited for Meg to get her clothes back on, Christine felt her cell vibrating.

It was Raoul.

She stared at it, wondering if she should answer it or not. She was still steamed about the anniversary dinner. The call became a missed one and Christine took a deep breath. She knew she couldn't keep ignoring Raoul for forever, and sooner or later they had to talk.

Apparently, Raoul had the same thing in mind when he sent her a text message.

_We need to talk._

Christine bit her lip and replied, _Read my mind._

_Can I come over after work?_

_Can't. I'll be at _Box Five. _We can meet there. _

_Okay. I'll see you later. Love you._

_Bye_, Christine had her fingers poised over the tiny keyboard and the words of sentiment were right there, but… she hesitated. Finally, she sent _Love you too_ and exhaled.

She loved Raoul. She did. But she didn't love the fact that he would easily dismiss a milestone in their relationship. She knew what she was getting herself into when they started dating. Crime never rested and that was part of the package of dating a police officer. Yet… there had to be some time left for them to spend together.

Meg came out and saw the conflicted look on her friend's face. "Oh no. Is it Raoul?"

"He wants to talk. We're meeting at Box Five," Christine told her.

"Good or bad?"

She sighed. "To be honest, Meg, I don't know anymore."

"C'mon. Let's go back to your place and watch a movie. Maybe I can see this Erik and judge for myself on the hot scale."

xxXXxx

The girls crashed on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn and Coke. While the movie played in the background, the two were focused on their conversation.

"We've been dating for seven years. Seven years! And we had known each other for at least a year before that. Hell, it took him that long to ask me out!"

"Yeah. Gotta tell you, you two were like peas in a pod. Crushing on each other from afar, but not acting on it."

"Sometimes I missed that Raoul," Christine admitted. "We were a real couple. We did everything together and we didn't let our jobs interfere with our plans. The third anniversary was a fluke, but we did have a nice time after." Christine became silent and thought back to the old times when they were in their early dating stage. What happened? How did their priorities get messed up?

"You two certainly have a lot to work on."

"That or…"

The words didn't need to be said. Meg nodded. "Maybe it won't be a bad thing if you two took a break or something. If Raoul's stressed out over this latest case, then it's going to get worse. I do agree he needs to prioritize better and learn to handle the stress if he wants to keep his relationship."

Christine didn't say a word. Meg was right. Raoul needed to know what he wants in life. Christine knew what she wanted. But she wasn't sure if she could wait until Raoul reaches the same conclusion.

When she didn't answer, Meg added quickly, "But talk to him first. Don't make any hasty decisions."

"I won't. You know me."

"Don't I know it." Meg winked. Then she looked out the window and whistled softly. "Is that him?"

Christine looked up and saw Erik walking past. Her heart sped. "Yup."

"Damn. You weren't kidding. He _is _gorgeous!" Meg got up and went over to the window. "You're a lucky bitch. I wish my neighbor was that yummy looking. God, why did I move?"

"I'm sure Artie would appreciate hearing that."

Meg shrugged. "I'm only looking. Just because I'm getting married doesn't mean I'm dead. But if I were you… I would definitely keep my options open."

"What about Raoul?"

"Raoul who?" Meg replied with a devilish glint in her eyes.

"Okay Meg. Sit back down before Erik sees." Christine shook her head. "Not you too Van Helsing!"

The cat was by the window, pawing at the glass. He looked over his shoulder, meowing loudly to his owner.

"See? Your cat has good tastes. He's telling you to try something different. Either that or for himself. Is Van Helsing gay?"

Christine snorted. "That'll be the day. Fine. But don't go too far, got it?" She got up and lifted the window wide open for the cat to slip out and sit on the balcony. Just as she raised herself up, Christine caught Erik looking at her. Smiling, she gave him a small wave, which he returned.

Meg cooed loudly. "Awwwww!"

"Shut up." But Christine couldn't stop grinning.

When the movie ended, the sky was getting dusky. Meg checked her watch. "Looks like I have to go. Do you want me to go to Box Five as backup? I'll bring Artie too so it's twice the support."

"Thanks Meg, but I'll be fine. Besides, it might be a good idea if you go out anywhere that Artie is with you."

"Yes Mother. But I'm a New York girl. Born and raised. There are psychos everywhere."

"Still. Be safe."

Meg gave her a soft smile. "I promise. Good luck tonight."

"Thanks. I might need it." Christine led her friend out the door and then turned around to face the other apartment. The curtains were closed but she could make out two shapes: Erik's tall one, and it looked like the other was shorter and definitely of a female variety. They were standing close, their hands practically touching.

She couldn't explain why, but some part of her was disappointed. Was that a date he was entertaining? Christine had no reason to be upset. They just met and it was no business of hers whether Erik was seeing someone. She had Raoul, didn't she?

A headache was coming on and that wasn't going to fly when it was her turn to perform tonight.

_Lord, give me the strength to get through the night. With Raoul and Carlotta._

xxXXxx

Buquet had no idea what kind of man his Master was. He knew he was powerful and intelligent, but he never realized that he was also extremely dangerous.

The Master had instructed that Buquet should leave him be when he was composing or if he had a guest over. So he did just that… in his room. Even though the Master had ordered there would be no bugs in his presence, he never said that Buquet couldn't have them in his bedroom.

While he was examining this beautiful caterpillar, he heard the Master speaking and a feminine chuckle.

Curious, he kept the door opened just a bit so he could watch.

The Master was wearing his usual black pants, but this time he had a red shirt on. The mask was also red, the scowl still molded on the plaster. His back was to Buquet, and he could barely see his Master's guest. Carefully, Buquet pushed the door open a little further and crawled out. He made sure to stay close to the hall so he couldn't be seen.

The woman was pretty—flaming hot red hair, an emerald green dress hugging all the right curves. She was being led by the Master to sit on the settee, her eyes never leaving his.

The Master got down on his knees, bringing her wrist to his lips. Buquet couldn't stop himself from watching as the lady began to moan under the ministration of the Master's lips. Heat spread through his belly and straight down to his groin. He shouldn't watch this. If the Master knew…

But the arousal depleted when the woman's moans of pleasures turned into a shriek. Buquet, in stunned horror, watched as the Master ripped his mask off and dove right into her throat. To keep her from screaming, his hand covered her mouth as the Master ravished her with such hunger.

Part of Buquet… the cop instinct… was to stop this brutal attack. All he had to do was make a noise or better yet… grab something to knock the man off of her. But something was holding him back…

He had to obey the Master. He was given an order and he had to follow.

However, even that thought seemed insane. Buquet, obey? Him having a Master? That was crazy talk.

He shook his head and the fog that covered him was shaking. The more he fought for control, the more he was able to see clearly.

It was the last cry of the dying woman's lips that sent Buquet into action. With a shout, he charged towards the man that was in his apartment. In a flash, the man… no… not a man… _demon _stood, his eyes bursting with fire, his mouth open to reveal the blood-dripping fangs…

Buquet froze as the monstrosity stalked towards him. He couldn't stop staring at the face… _oh holy fucking Christ!_ was the only thought when that _thing _gripped him by the throat, hoisting him up.

"Fool!" he hissed, practically spitting in Buquet's face. "Didn't I tell you not to disturb me? You wanted to see what I am? Look! DAMN YOU LOOK AT ME!"

Buquet was sobbing. A grown man… weeping like a child, pleading for forgiveness, to stop, and to let him go. Some hero he turned out to be.

"You're too valuable for me to kill you… But I can't have you running off telling everyone that you have a monster hidden here, can I?"

"Please!" Buquet cried. "I won't tell! I promise! I swear!"

"Oh, I'll make sure you won't tell all right. This will be the only and last time you will disobey me." With that said _he _turned to his wrist and tore the flesh open. There was no way he could fight back as the _thing _shoved the bleeding wrist into his mouth, forcing him to swallow.

Erik dropped Buquet as the older man fainted. He should have known the compulsion was going to wear off eventually. _Well_, he thought as his lips twisted into a mocking grin, _he'll have no choice now. He'll be loyal until the day he dies. _

When that day came… Erik didn't know yet. But once Buquet served his purpose, he will have no further use of his services. Turning back to his recent feed, Erik was pleased to note that the settee was stain-free. She was tilted where the remaining blood would drip over her body, not the expensive leather. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Erik glanced down at his discarded mask. Picking it up, he slipped it over just as Buquet started to move.

He sensed when Buquet was lifting himself up when Erik ordered, "Get rid of this body and make sure it has no traces to me or you. I trust your skills can accomplish this."

"Yes Master," Buquet replied, his tone reverent and filled with awe. "Right away!"

While his servant began to clean up, Erik's sensitive hearing picked up a heavenly voice.

_Christine…_

He strode over to the window, pushing the curtain aside to watch as she lifted a duffel bag over her shoulders and grabbed a garment bag. She was wearing a pair of sweats and a long-sleeved shirt with her dark hair pulled up into a ponytail. She was leaning down and speaking to Van Helsing, telling the cat she would see him after work.

A smile danced across his lips. He was suddenly in the mood for a little clubbing.

TBC…


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics to "Si mi chiamano Mimi" from _La Boheme_. Also, I can't take credit for the English translation that follows. Lyrics were translated by Terri Eickel at /translations/boheme2_.

A/N: I present to you a longer chapter! I know many of you are going to love this as I had much fun writing it. And that's all I'm going to share. I also want to dedicate this chapter to a couple of people: first, Wandering-Phantom. You were the only person to review my last chapter and a little birdie told me that you would definitely appreciate this chapter.

The second would be to those who work in sucky jobs and who have to deal with rude, inconsiderate people. On the side, I work in a retail store and I had my fair share of insane customers, but I think my friend had the worst when a lady yelled at her for looking at a dress wrong. Apparently, none of us realized there was a wrong way to look at something. Go figure.

You guys know the drill! Reviews keeps this poor girl from going hungry!

**Chapter 8**

Christine had her costume and make-up done in record time. Looking into the mirror, she took a deep breath.

When she arrived, Carlotta was in her crazy form again. She was fighting with Angus that she should have Classical Night tonight, not Christine. It was the same old battle too. Classical Night was a special event that Box Five held to break up the typical club and contemporary music for its patrons. Originally, Classical Night didn't exist when Christine started working there several years ago. She approached Angus with the idea, which he thought it was ludicrous. After all, when majority of the crowd was college students, who would want to listen to a bunch of arias from operas that no one sees or understand?

Yet, Christine was persisted. Even going as to far to start singing one of her favorite arias right there in his office. That caught his attention, and it was the first time, she saw her boss with tears in his eyes. So he relented, telling her she had only one night. If it bombed, then he didn't want to hear about it ever again.

To his shock, Classical Night ended up being a hit. It was a different from other clubs and it allowed the audience a taste of what real music was like. In addition, the audience could participate too… they could pick their favorite songs for the singer performing to do.

Unfortunately, Christine's plan backfired in that Carlotta had to get in on this. Since she was Italian, she apparently had the rights to sing those arias as it ran through her veins. Christine was an American with a passable voice and who couldn't do them justice. Christine remembered how anxious she was, fearing she would lose this opportunity to show off her range to any potential scout. To her glee, Angus told Carlotta that the two singers could trade off and that was final.

Classical Night was once a week and the two could alternate much to Carlotta's chagrin. It also pissed her off that there would be more of a larger crowd on Christine's nights than her own. Well, not too bad for the "American with a passable voice." A part of Christine was thrilled she could ruffle the Italian's feathers, especially since she was the favored singer and the most requested one. But like any good thing, there was a price. And that price was to meet Carlotta's fury.

But tonight, Christine wasn't going to let Carlotta get to her. This was her night to shine. Sure, Christine would sing on other days and they would be the popular hits, but Classical Night was the one night she could really let her soul soar.

Her love for opera and all things classical was from her parents. At a young age, Christine recalled how her parents would play _La Boheme_ and Mozart and Handel, miming the singers. Sadly, they were both musically challenged. Neither one could sing or play an instrument. But that didn't stop them from admiring and appreciating the beauty of the music. Then along came Christine… who could sing and play. Her experience with instruments was with the piano, but Christine loved singing most of all.

Her parents would joke that their daughter got the talent from a very distant relative of theirs. That… or they wound up with an opera singer's baby at the hospital. Dad would say, "I should have recognized it too with the perfect C in that crying pitch."

Thinking about her parents put a serene smile across her lips.

She owed everything to them. They knew that she had talent and they encouraged her to nurture that gift. When money was tight, they somehow found a way to still pay for her singing lessons when Christine insisted she should quit. When she graduated high school, her parents supported her decision to major in Music while most parents would rather have their children major in something that would ensure a potential career. Singing was risky and Christine knew it. Yet, she believed she could make it and so did they.

A single tear ran down her cheek.

It wasn't fair that a drunk took them away from her. She knew if her parents were around they would be very proud that she made Classical Night a hit. Everything she did was for them. In every song, every note, she sang for them.

The only disappointing fact was that Christine was still stuck at Box Five. She knew her parents would tell her that her day would come and she had to be patient. But it's been five years since college and she hadn't had a single offer. Although, it did make her feel somewhat better that it took eight years for Mina Harks to be noticed, but Christine didn't want to wait that long.

She knew she could do it. She knew she was the fresh voice that the stage needed. And she'd be damned if Carlotta gets there first.

She touched up her make-up once more, and smooth out her hair. _This could be the night_, she thought. _Here goes nothing._

Stepping out of her dressing room, Christine nearly collided into Carlotta. The infuriated Italian was only a few years older than Christine, and one of the most beautiful women in the world. Sure, when it came to singing Christine had her beat… but in the beauty department, Carlotta won hands down.

With long, shiny, voluminous raven curls; wide, intense olive green eyes enhanced by long, dark lashes and bold color eye shadows; ivory skin tone that was smooth and flawless; and a body that most women would kill to have. Everything about Carlotta screamed "bold" and "vivacious," including her fashion sense which most people would see as tacky. Yet, Carlotta could pull anything off and still look damn good in it.

Right now, those stormy eyes were highlighted with a bright canary yellow, her lips in a crimson hue, and her long, shapely nails in a blood-red color. Her hair was pulled into a tight chignon style with only a couple loose curls to drape over her oval-shaped face. She wore a tight-fitted neon yellow dress covered in suns that was cut above her knees and her breasts were pushed to the top that if she were to breathe too deep they would certainly pop out if she exhaled. If that didn't get the attention she wanted, then she wore a pair of yellow pumps to give her the needed height to tower over lesser mortals.

Christine wasn't impressed.

"Where do you think you're going?" Carlotta sneered.

"Out to perform seeing that it is _my turn_," Christine tossed back.

"In that?" the beauty scoffed. "Oh, _Christine_, you really have to stop shopping off the rack."

She looked down at the gown she wore. Certainly, Christine wasn't a fashionista nor did she pretend to be one, but she didn't think it was that bad. It was a simple dress—small shoulder straps that cut into a V-neck, showing a little cleavage, but not too much; the top was cream-colored and it flared out into a black skirt that fell down her legs with only a slight slit that went up to her mid left calf. The only detail was a black band that wrapped below her chest with tiny rhinestones in the center. Yes, it was modest, but still sexy, which was what drawn Christine to it.

She knew what Carlotta was doing and it did work on her once… but that was when she didn't know better when she began working at Box Five. Now, she knew all of Carlotta's tricks to get her to avoid going on that stage.

Putting on a sweet smile, she lifted her face to Carlotta and shrugged. "Well, I did have a dress like the one you're wearing now, but then I remembered it was Classical Night and that wouldn't fit the atmosphere."

Carlotta pursed her lips, talking through her teeth. "What are you implying?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm stating it wouldn't be appropriate with the aria I am to perform."

"How would you know? Your 'Caro nome…' from _Rigoletto _was lacking the passionate dark love Gilda had for the Duke."

"On the contrary," Christine countered. "Gilda was singing from the heart and her love was innocent, despite the cruel manipulation. It's you who doesn't understand the meaning."

"Me? If anyone is wrong, it's you! This came from my home country. I know everything there is to know about operas."

"Really? Your 'O patria mia' no one would have known Aida was lamenting over never seeing her home again the why you butchered the lyrics."

The woman's jaw dropped. "You little _bitch_," she started and stopped when Angus was heading towards them.

"What the Hell is going on?"

Both singers looked at their boss. Angus was in his late thirties with short brown hair that was starting to bald in the back. He was average looking with an average height and the need to lose some weight. He wasn't obese, but he did have some pounds in his midsection, which he could stand to lose. The only unfortunate thing was that every time he went on a diet, he had to break it thanks to Carlotta. Christine enjoyed working with him when he refused to let Carlotta bully the others, but there were times when he could be a pushover just to please the spoiled Italian so he wouldn't turn to fatty foods or alcohol.

"Well?" Angus demanded.

"It's all Christine's fault," Carlotta said first. "She can't accept the fact that she does these arias wrong. She doesn't understand them so how can she possibly sing them?"

Christine's hands were itching to strangle that cow. How dare her! She wondered if she could get away with murder if she pleaded the fact that the world truly didn't need Carlotta and she was doing everyone a favor…

"I don't fucking care if the meaning is wrong," Angus said, crossing his arms. "I have a crowd out there who is anxiously waiting for some music. All you're doing is holding up tonight's singer. Go Christine or you're fired."

"Thanks Angus!" Christine said and ran to the stage, grinning from ear to ear as Carlotta began cursing in Italian.

She made it, waving to the rest of the band. Sam, the piano player, went over to her. "We were wondering what took you so long. Any longer we thought for sure Carlotta would take over."

"Yeah, well, she lost this time," Christine said, still smiling. "We have a show to do so let's get it started."

She took her place behind the mike, and looked behind to the guys to see if they were ready. They all gave each other the nod, and the curtain rose.

"Here she is Box Five! Miss Christine Daaé!" the DJ shouted while the crowds of people screamed.

The lights flashed and she waited as Sam started the beginning chords from her favorite aria, "Si mi chiamano Mimi" from _La Boheme_.

She leaned into the microphone and allowed her voice to take flight:

_Sì. Mi chiamano Mimì,  
>ma il mio nome è Lucia.<br>La storia mia è breve.  
>A tela o a seta<br>ricamo in casa e fuori ...  
>Son tranquilla e lieta<br>ed è mio svago  
>far gigli e rose.<br>Mi piaccion quelle cose  
>che han si dolce malia,<br>che parlano d'amor, di primavere,  
>che parlano di sogni e di chimere,<br>quelle cose che han nome poesia...  
>Lei m'intende?<em>

She held the note a little longer, clasping her hands together as the people waited in hushed anticipation. Giving them a little wink, she continued:

_Mi chiamano Mimì,  
>il perchè non so.<br>Sola, mi fo  
>il pranzo da me stessa.<br>Non vado sempre a messa,  
>ma prego assai il Signore.<br>Vivo sola, soletta  
>là in una bianca cameretta:<br>guardo sui tetti e in cielo;  
>ma quando vien lo sgelo<br>il primo sole è mio  
>il primo bacio dell'aprile è mio!<br>il primo sole è mio!  
>Germoglia in un vaso una rosa...<br>Foglia a foglia la spiol  
>Cosi gentile il profumo d'un fiore!<br>Ma i fior chlio faccio, ahimè!  
>i fior chlio faccio, ahimè!<br>non hanno odore.  
>Altro di me non le saprei narrare.<br>Sono la sua vicina che la vien  
>fuori d'ora a importunate.<em>

She took a deep breath and as the music struck up again with the same chords, she got ready to sing the translation:

_Yes, they call me Mimì,  
>But my name is Lucy<br>My history is brief  
>To cloth or to silk<br>I embroider at home or outside ...  
>I am peaceful and happy<br>And it is my pastime  
>To make lilies and roses<br>I like these things  
>That have so sweet smell,<br>That speak of love, of spring,  
>That speak of dreams and of chimera<br>These things that have poetic names…  
>Do you understand me?<em>

_They call me Mimì,  
>And why I don't know.<br>Alone, I make  
>Lunch for myself.<br>I do not always go to mass,  
>But I pray a lot to the Lord.<br>I live alone, alone.  
>There is a white little room<br>I look upon the roofs and the sky.  
>By when the thaw comes<br>The first sun is mine  
>The first kiss of April is mine!<br>Rose buds in a vase  
>Leaf by leaf I watch it!<br>That gentle perfume of a flower!  
>But the flowers that I make!<br>Ah me! they don't have odor!  
>About me I would not know how to tell<br>I am your neighbor who come  
>unexpectedly to bother you. <em>

As she finished the last note, the audience was already applauding and whooping like crazy. It wasn't long before she launched into a new song, and once again, the club was silent as the soprano continued to enchant them with songs of lost loves and hopes and dreams.

When the first set was done, Christine headed backstage where she thought for sure Carlotta would be waiting for her. To her surprise, she was nowhere to be found.

_Maybe Angus sent her home or something_, she thought. It was fine by her. She had other things to worry about. She saw Raoul in the audience, and since she had some time before she had to be back, she wanted to get this talk over and done with.

She quickly changed into her next outfit—a pale pink blouse and black pants. The second set was for requests, which she usually dressed down from the gowns so it was a comfortable setting. She let her hair down and ran her hands through it a few times before she was satisfied.

Walking out to the main floor, she spotted him by the bar. As Christine came closer, she saw that Raoul was in a deep conversation with the bartender and… _Wait! Is that a notepad? _

Raoul looked over his shoulder and immediately moved away. The pad that was in his hand went into his back pocket.

"Hey Christine," Raoul greeted, his arms opened. She went passed it and took a seat on the empty barstool. "Still mad I take it. Look, Christine, I said I'm sorry—"

She held her hand up to interrupt him. "Can I ask you one thing Raoul?"

He sat down and cocked his head. "What is it?"

She closed her eyes, willing herself to remain calm, and turned to look into the soft, brown eyes she fell in love with a long time ago. His brow was creased with worry and confusion, which only made him look all the more clueless on his recent transgression. Apparently, an apology should have corrected everything. And sadly, it would have worked but not this time.

It was the first time she noticed that he relied on his puppy dog eyes and his earnest, boyish looks to his advantage. Raoul certainly looked young for his age, which only made him work all the more harder to get the respect he wanted at the station. Yet, when it came to relationships, he knew with a single look he could melt her heart if he was sincere enough.

"Christine?" he repeated.

"What did I sing tonight?" she blurted out.

He blinked, not sure if he heard right. "What you sang?"

She nodded. "What song did I finish my first set with?"

Raoul took a second to think it over before his eyes lit up. "Your favorite aria of course! The one from _Hannibal_."

Her expression fell as she quickly looked down so he wouldn't see her disappointment. She didn't sing anything from _Hannibal _tonight and it wasn't really a favorite of hers anyways. It was the one that the audience always picked as a request.

But he didn't seem to notice.

"You did a great job like always Chris. And listen… I feel extremely awful about the other night. I know it was our anniversary and I don't know where my head was, but I'll make it up to you. Go ahead and name your price. I'll take you anywhere to eat, a show, whatever you like. The expensive it is… well, I can promise you I might go broke for a while, but that's okay."

"Raoul…" she said quietly, but he kept going without hearing her. Finally, she said a little louder, "Raoul!"

He stopped.

"You know… I wouldn't have cared if you worked our anniversary. Really. But you could have at least called to tell me."

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. "No! I want you to listen. This wasn't the first time you messed up Raoul. And by the way, I didn't sing 'Think of Me' and it is not my favorite."

"Well, I, uh—"

"You weren't even paying attention!" she said. "You were too busy interviewing the bartender!"

"I wasn't!" he said, although a little weakly.

"C'mon. I saw the notepad you use for work. I knew what you were doing. You are so wrapped up in this case that you couldn't even spend five fucking minutes to listen to your girlfriend sing!"

Christine wasn't much of a cusser so this came to a surprise to Raoul.

"I have heard you sing plenty of times Christine. I have been to every single performance you have ever done. Excuse me if I was trying to do my job in solving this murder for this poor girl!" he exclaimed.

"Don't you do that," she warned him. "Don't turn this around and try to make me feel guilty."

"What do you want me to do? There was a killer here Christine! Who knows if this guy decides to try it again?"

"Okay but what if it's not here? What if it's somewhere else? The point is, Raoul, you have not been around when I needed you to be."

He ran a hand through his flaxen hair and took a shaky breath. "Wow."

"I know how much your job means to you, but you keep working yourself so hard. We barely spend time together. How can we expect to have a future together when you're—"

"Hang on. I _am _working hard for our future. I'm doing everything I can to make sure that my career succeeds so we can have everything we need. What have you done? So far, you've been singing at the same club for four years, waiting to be noticed. In that timeframe, no one has ever contacted you. You have a good voice Christine, but let's face it… it's not that good otherwise someone would have discovered you long ago."

It was like a slap to the face as she looked at him, stunned. He couldn't have… He didn't mean…

"I'm sorry Christine, but it's about time you realize that this dream of yours is probably not going to happen. The best thing to do now is get out and find something that is going to provide security."

He did.

"How dare you!" she whispered, tears shimmering but refusing to fall. "How could you say something like that? This… singing… it's _my life_. I can't give it up. You know that. I can't believe you would say something like that to me."

"Christine." He reached out for her, but she stood up.

"No. You know I'm glad you did. Because this is going to be a lot easier for me to say." Looking straight into his eyes, she said, "We are on two different paths now Raoul. It's been like that for some time. And obviously, there isn't going to be a future."

"Chris—"

"We're done Raoul." With those words leaving her lips, she felt the significant impact and she stood straighter. "Good bye Raoul. I wish you the best."

She turned around and walked away, leaving the befuddled detective behind wondering how on the earth did this happen?

TBC…


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: I think I decided I'm going to have weekly updates on Sunday. It works a lot easier with my insane schedule and luckily I have most of this story already written in advanced. Thank you so much to everyone for reading and reviewing! They truly make my day! As a special shout-out, thanks to Wandering-Phantom for the faithful reviews and for cheatedwithmy360 for telling me that the last chapter did not post. I would have had no idea if you hadn't told me!

And I know all of you were excited about Christine breaking up with Raoul… so I have to do something special. This one is strictly Erik and Christine yay! Also, I have a new story that I'm working on too called _Heaven by the Sea_. I have about the first 12 chapters done and I'm going to post the Prologue later tonight. This one I'm very excited about since it was inspired by my new favorite novel by Daphne du Maurier, _Rebecca_. So please check it out!

Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics to _'Til I Hear You Sing_, which is an AMAZING SONG!

**Chapter 9**

Christine finished off her second set of requests. It was probably one of the best performances she ever gave for Classical Night judging by the way she moved the audience to tears and wild applause. And it wasn't tears of sadness either. It was tears that were touched by the beauty and power in her voice.

For the first time, Christine felt her spirits lift higher than ever. She was on a cloud and she couldn't find her way back down. There was nothing for her to worry about. She was free.

Strange.

She thought breaking up with Raoul would be devastating. After all, they had dated for seven years, but she did not feel any remorse or regret. She didn't feel anything that was akin to sadness. Instead, she was happy.

Interesting.

When she came home, Van Helsing was pacing the apartment restlessly. When he saw her, he ran to the window and began clawing at the glass.

She went over quickly so he wouldn't leave any scratches and opened the window. The black cat darted out and jumped to the ledge of the balcony.

Then she heard it.

Music…

She looked out to the apartment and saw Erik at the piano; his eyes were closed, as his fingers danced across the keys. Van Helsing was facing him as well, watching the man intently.

It was a beautiful song… nothing she ever heard before. It was full of sorrow, yet it was underlined with hope as the crescendo sent her holding onto the windowpane. Tears sparked in her eyes as Erik unknowingly continued to play. There was something about it that was calling out to her. She could feel the power within the song, and before she could stop herself, Christine crawled out of the window and stood next to Van Helsing on the balcony.

When it came to an end, Christine softly applauded. At last, Erik opened his eyes and saw he had an audience. He gracefully stood from the bench and walked over to the open window. He climbed through and stood to his full height on the balcony. For a moment, Christine couldn't stop her staring at the magnificent man before her. Like before, he was wearing a pair of black pants, but he wore a crisp white shirt this time. The buttons were undone just to give a glimpse of the pale, beautifully sculpted chest. His hair was slick back and that ever present glowing white mask was on his right side. The only difference was the plaster didn't seem to be scowling, but had a gentle like expression.

She looked down at her attire—the sweatpants and old shirt, realizing how underdressed she felt compared to him. Then again, this was her comfort outfit after work, but she felt like she should have put something else before coming out.

"Did you like it?" he asked, his hand gesturing to the piano.

"It was beautiful," Christine said. "I don't think I ever heard that song before."

"I hope you haven't since that is an original," he replied, a small grin playing on the corner of his visible lips.

"Wow," she breathed. "It was very good."

"Thank you. Although, I don't know if my performance pleased Van Helsing," Erik pointed out as the cat continued to clean his paw, completely ignoring the masked man.

Christine chuckled. "Don't be offended. He never pays me any attention when I sing." As soon as she said those words, she realized that it wasn't just her pet. Raoul didn't pay attention too it would seem.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, his dark brow furrowed when the teasing look fell away from her face.

"It's nothing. I'm fine," she answered quickly.

Erik shook his head. "I can see it in your eyes. It's all right, you can tell me."

She nervously chewed on her lower lip. She barely knew the man and he seemed to be filled with concern for her… The last thing she needed to do was inform him of the confusing emotional woes that her break-up stirred within her. So, she should have stopped herself, but it came flooding out.

"I broke up with my boyfriend, and I should be upset, but I'm not, although I am pissed that everything was a waste of time and he apparently doesn't have enough trust or faith in me when it comes to careers and you're probably thinking I'm nuts."

"Not at all." Erik grinned. "But I am thinking that you could use a drink. Why don't you come in?"

"Oh, I don't—if it's not a bother—"

Erik shook his head once, and held his hand out to her. "No bother at all."

She stared at his outstretched hand and back into his apartment. "Would your uncle mind?"

"He's out for the evening and won't be gone for a while."

"Okay." Still she didn't make a move.

Seeing her hesitation, Erik assured her with a comforting smile. "I swear that I don't bite, unless you ask me too."

"It's not that… oh Hell." Christine reached out and grabbed his hand, then stopped. "Wouldn't it be better if I just walked to your apartment? It won't take me long."

"I got you Christine. I'm not going to let you fall," Erik said and he took her other hand.

She looked down. Their apartments weren't that far up from the ground, but heights did make her uneasy. Yet, she looked back into his eyes and found her fears ebbing away. She could trust him…

Christine lifted her leg and set it on top and as she pushed herself up with her other leg, Erik already had her hoisted above the rail and he gently set her down next to him. She only stared up at him in awe.

"Are you Superman or something?"

Erik laughed; it was a low, deep rumble that sent Christine's heart fluttering. It was beautiful…

He led her inside, and for the first time, she was able to see his apartment clearly. She knew when it had been just Buquet; the place was nothing special to look at. Why would anyone want to see when there would be insects of all kind everywhere?

But the place went through a complete makeover. The floors were redone—a shiny, mahogany linoleum; a soft Persian rug covered the expanse of the living room with the leather settee in the center. Black bookshelves were against the wall by the piano filled with books and CD cases and papers bound by black ribbon, which she assumed must be Erik's songs. If he wrote that one, then chances are he had more originals.

Three well-polished dark frames stood against the navy blue wall with different Parisian scenes: one was of the Eiffel Tower at night with stars covering the midnight sky; the second was of a giant mansion surrounded by a rose garden; and the third was of the Paris Opera House.

She walked forward, captivated by the gorgeous architecture of the opera house. She lifted a finger to touch it. _It feels like I'm right there_.

"Have you been there?"

Christine snapped out of her reverie and turned as Erik was in the kitchen preparing some tea.

Looking back at the picture, she sadly sighed. "Afraid not. I've always wanted to go to Paris."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Since I was a little girl. It was always a dream of mine to sing there one day. Then… I made a life here. I still would love to visit one day, but I think I rather stay in New York and sing."

She walked over to him as he handed her cup to her. "Thanks for the tea," she said softly, raising it to her lips.

"Take a seat." Erik waved his hand to the dining table, which was a sleek black like most of the apartment.

Christine took a seat as he sat across from her. She frowned. "Are you going to have some?"

"I'm fine."

"I take it you're going to be here for a while," she commented, looking over her shoulder. "This place certainly looks better." The moment those words flew out, her face reddened. "I didn't mean your uncle has bad taste. I noticed how you cleaned up the place… okay, that doesn't sound right either."

"It's all right Christine," he said, still grinning. "I do agree with you. The apartment needed to be cleaned up, and you're right. I do plan to stay here for a while."

She blushed and tried to hide it with her cup as she took another drink. He waited for her to set it down before he asked her his question again.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Christine sighed. She supposed telling an outsider would be all right. After all, he could be objective. "It was a long time coming I guess. Seven years and never once a proposal. We loved each other, yes, but the excuse was we would wait until we were where we wanted our careers to be. I just figured the wedding could wait and we would be engaged, maybe living together or something. But there was always something that prevented it from happening. Then it was our anniversary dinner…"

She told Erik how Raoul never called to tell her he wouldn't come. "I mean, how hard it is? He has a cell phone! He could have texted me if he couldn't call. Did he? No! He was so wrapped up in that Sheila Grace case that he completely forgot. And to make matters worse, when we were going to talk tonight, I caught him interviewing a co-worker while I was performing!"

Erik listened silently as she relayed Raoul's words about how she was never noticed and would never be and that she was wasting her time. When she finished, she couldn't feel the tears that were falling down as she angrily exclaimed, "This is _my _life! Okay, so I haven't been noticed, but that doesn't mean that one day I won't! And for him to throw that in my face… it hurt so much. He used to understand, but not anymore. All he cares about is his murder case. If he can solve this, then he'll get all the attention he wants from his department and possibly a promotion. I'm sorry if it sounds like I'm being selfish, and I feel awful about the victim, but what about us? Does that even matter? Of course not!"

She took a deep, shaky breath. "So I ended it. And here I am telling a stranger about my failed relationship."

"I don't think we could hardly call ourselves strangers anymore." His sleeve raised a little and her eyes narrowed on the bandage wrapped around his wrist.

"Are you okay?" she asked, leaning over to look at it. "What happened?"

Erik pulled back and shrugged. "A careless incident with a kitchen knife."

She frowned. "Still… you might want to get it looked at."

Her concern was sweet, but how could she be worried about him when that idiotic boy was the problem?

"Christine," he started causing her to shiver. The way he said her name… who knew it could sound so sultry? "You did the right thing in leaving him. Obviously, _he _couldn't appreciate your talent or you if he'd rather spend most of his time investigating corpses."

Erik had a blunt way of telling the truth, and although, Christine wasn't sure if the "investigating corpses" was needed, she appreciated his honesty; especially, when he never heard her sing. Already he believed in her when Raoul had put doubts in her head.

"Thank you Erik. That means a lot, but you haven't heard me sing."

"Actually…" Erik laced his fingers together and sat back in his chair. "I heard you tonight at Box Five and you certainly made the angels weep tonight. I never heard anyone sing with such passion that I was inspired. I had to come home straight away to compose."

"Oh!" She blushed at the too kind compliment. "I don't know if I made angels weep…"

"You did. You have a wonderfully superb voice Christine. One that needs to be heard on the stage where you belong not showcased at some club. Trust me when I say I do not hand out compliments as such unless there's a good reason. As it was, it's been a very long time since I heard someone sound so pure and in tune to the lyrics."

Her blush deepened. _What is with you? Ever since you met the guy, all you do is blush! _Everything he said… touched her. And the praises… no one has ever said anything remotely close to that. Her breath caught in her throat when she at last looked into his intense gaze. He was attractive and she knew she was attracted to him. She was only human, of course. But she just broke up with Raoul… it was natural to be flattered by someone she didn't know very well. _Well, like Meg always says. That needs to change._

"Enough of me. What about you?"

"What about me?"

Christine said, "What's your story? I know you said you moved from France. Were you from Paris?"

"Yes. I lived there my whole life."

"Amazing. I mean, I can hear a little bit of an accent, but I wouldn't have known that you recently moved."

"I know many languages and I am fluent in every one of them. It's not hard to adopt an accent wherever I'm at."

"And you moved out here to take care of your uncle. That's pretty admirable. I don't know of anyone who would make such a move."

"I suppose you're right, but I felt it was my duty. I rarely knew my uncle and when I got the phone call about—"

"The Incident," Christine answered with a smile.

He smiled back. "Yes. I take it you know it from your ex."

"Yeah." She sheepishly nodded.

"I knew it was the right thing to do. Plus, I was growing bored of my life. I needed a change in scenery and I knew this was a sign."

"Paris, boring? I find that hard to believe."

"Believe it or not it was."

"Well, I'm glad you moved. For your uncle," she corrected herself.

"Do you know him?"

"A little," Christine confessed. "Mainly from Raoul. They didn't work a lot together, but there was a case or two when they crossed paths. And when I moved in to the apartment, Raoul noticed that he was my neighbor. He seems to be nice. Lonely, but he never bothered me, except for all those bugs."

"Yes. I will admit that was a bit of a surprise. Yet, when I'm studying something, I also tend to immerse myself in it completely. So I guess it wasn't altogether a huge shock."

"I hope he didn't stop. It may not be my cup of tea, but if that's his interest…"

"Well, the doctors did ask that he also find a new interest, one that the landlord and the other neighbors wouldn't be worried about."

"Oh. Has he?"

"I'm not sure. He's always doing something new."

"As long as he's still happy and is feeling better. I can't imagine having something like that happening to me. It's not fair that the PD did what they did, but Raoul said it was the only dignified thing they could have done considering."

Erik nodded. "What else would you like to know?"

"What do you do?" She was curious to know what he did for a living. He didn't seem to be the kind of person to have an Average Joe job.

"I don't have a career like most, mainly hobbies. I've dabbled in architecture, masonry, and the stock market. Although, I confess, my greatest love is music, but it has been a long time since I could write anything."

"What happened?"

"I lost someone very dear and I didn't have the will anymore." There was pain in his tone, which Christine scolded herself for bringing up bad memories.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

"No, no," he assured her. "I asked you if there was anything you wanted to know. But as you saw earlier, I have started my music again. There was one point where I thought I would never play again, but I was wrong. And I have you to thank."

She brushed it off. "I'm sure it wasn't me. It was probably there all along and it was waiting for the right moment to surprise you."

"Still. You did inspire me."

She looked away, knowing she was once more beet red. "Do you mind if I could hear another one of your songs?"

"Of course." Erik stood. "Come."

He led her back to the piano where she sat down on the settee, her elbows resting on the armrest while Erik took his place. "I'll play the one from before. I want to hear your opinion about the lyrics as well."

"You can sing too? Wow. You're definitely my favorite neighbor now," she teased.

He smirked and began the introduction. It started rough and angry, and then melted away into a soft melody. After a few beats, Erik began to sing:

_The day starts_

_The day ends_

_Time crawls by_

Just those few short phrases, Christine's jaw dropped at the quiet tenderness in his voice. She should have known from the way he spoke that singing was going to be dangerous to her, and she was right.

_Night steals in pacing the floor_

_The moments creep_

_Yet I can't bear to sleep_

'_Til I hear you sing_

_And weeks pass_

_And months pass_

_Seasons fly_

_Still you don't walk through the door_

_And in a haze_

_I count the silent days_

'_Til I hear you sing once more_

_And sometimes at night time_

_I dream that you are there_

_But wake holding nothing_

_But the empty air_

_And years come_

_And years go_

_Time runs dry_

_Still I ache down to the core_

_My broken soul_

_Can't be alive and whole_

'_Til I hear you sing once more_

_And music, your music_

_It teases me at my ear_

_I turn and it fades away_

_And you're not here_

_Let hopes pass_

_Let dreams pass_

_Let them die_

_Without you, what are they for?_

_I'll always feel_

_No more than halfway real_

'_Til I hear you sing once more!_

After he released the last note, the room was filled with muffled sniffles. Christine was crying, covering her mouth and nose. Never was she moved like this before. She heard some excellent singers and some brought tears to her eyes, but never did anyone actually make her sob at the beauty of their voices.

"Christine?"

"That was… words can't describe… oh Erik."

He was out of his seat with a tissue in his hand. She took it and wiped her tears away.

"That was amazing. You have such a beautiful voice."

"I take it you liked it?"

"Like it? I _loved_ it," she gushed.

"Then may I have the honor to ask you to sing."

"Me? After that, I don't think I could follow."

"Well, if not tonight, then I insist another time. It's only fair."

She nodded. "Okay."

A loud, pitiful meow interrupted them and Christine shook her head. "I guess that's my cue to head back. Thank you for everything Erik. I appreciate it."

"It was my pleasure."

Erik helped her back over to her balcony, and once again, she couldn't get over how effortlessly he was able to lift her. When her feet were settled, she looked back over to him.

"Good night Erik."

"Good night. Christine."

She gave him another smile and went back into her apartment. Van Helsing was prancing about impatiently, but Christine couldn't stop thinking about Erik and his song. There was more to the story that much she knew. She was surprised to realize she wanted to learn everything she can about him. Her curiosity extended far beyond from wanting to get acquainted with her new neighbor. There was something about Erik Destler that she was drawn to and was determined to discover what it was exactly.

That night, she fell asleep with him singing in her head.

TBC…

Review please? With Erik on top?


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Happy Easter everyone! I thought I would go ahead and post this a day earlier since I know I'm going to be busy tomorrow. Thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing!

This chapter is basically the events from the end of chapter 8 and all of 9 into Erik's point of view. Normally, I don't do chapters that repeat a previous chapter, but we have to see Erik's point of view, especially his reaction to hearing Christine singing. And of course the break-up too. Don't forget to leave comments! And also, if you haven't checked it out yet, I just started posting my new story—_Heaven by the Sea_. The first 3 chapters are up. Thank you again everyone for the continued support!

**Chapter 10**

Looking down at his bleeding wrist, Erik cursed himself once more. He thought for sure his compulsion would last longer. Alas, it didn't seem to be enough and the damn old fool had to ruin everything.

Siring was the last option if possible. But now that Buquet had a taste of his blood… he would be loyal to the end of his miserable life. As long as he didn't die than he wouldn't have to worry about another creature like him. Buquet was still useful to him and once Erik no longer needed his services… well, killing him would be a charm. Permanently.

He wrapped a bandage around the wrist, which the bleeding had stopped. Still, it was best to cover it to avoid any unwanted questions. His clothes also had to be changed. Although, he had been careful about the woman's blood, he didn't want to be recognized either. It didn't take long for him to do so and he replaced his black mask with a white one.

This time… he chose the one he rarely wore—an almost smiling one. It seemed fitting somehow.

Once Erik was dressed to his liking, he headed for Box Five. This was his opportunity to hear Christine sing at last, and to once and for all, to learn if there was any possible connection to Christiana. If he heard her voice, then he would know.

Was it even possible after all these years that she could be alive? Or close to alive like him? Erik had thought back to that night everyday. He could remember Luciana's command to feed and he still could smell the intoxicating scent of the rushing blood that flowed through the lovers' veins. He remembered breaking down the door, the scent of lovemaking turning him into a mad frenzy at the betrayal, and the screams… oh the screams! First the boy… Then he stalked towards her… her eyes full of tears and she was begging… begging to let her live…

"_Stop! Please stop!" Christiana screamed, her hands clasping together in a prayer. "Don't hurt me! Take whatever you want! Please don't hurt—"_

_He put his finger to her lips, silencing her pleas. "You should have waited. I would have given the world to you if you only had asked. Instead, you take everything I had to offer and throw it in my face! First… my music. Then… the boy!"_

_He watched as realization dawned in those watery blue eyes. "Y-your music! You wrote that? F-f-for me?"_

_But it was too late. The beast was roaring, craving, demanding… and he had to obey._

She was drained completely. He wouldn't let her go even after her weak attempts to free herself. Her body lay limped in his cold embrace hours later as the pricks of sunlight began to burn.

She was dead.

Christiana was dead.

He killed her. He knew he did. So why did Christine look like her? Did she survive that night and he didn't know? It wasn't hard to disguise one with the modern technologies available, but wouldn't she have recognized him? He knew he retained all of his memories of his former existence so she should have as well. But she had looked upon him without horror, without recognition that he was her murderer.

Unless, she was waiting for her time to strike back?

Erik wouldn't blame her if he did. And if she were to attack him… he didn't know if he would fight back or not.

He arrived at the club; the line was already out the door and down the block. The marquee stated that tonight was Classical Night with Christine Daaé as the evening's performer. There was a pleasing thrill that went through him, knowing that classical music was alive. It was a different type of atmosphere since the last time he was here: the people were dressed up appropriately, and not in revealing outfits. It was clearly a sign of respect.

The doors opened and the patrons made their way inside. Erik didn't go in the front. Like the last time, he snuck into the alley and entered through one of the backdoors. It was too easy and the lack of security was laughable. Apparently, during Classical Night, there was no need to watch out for any psychotic madmen.

He found his way into the main area where chairs covered the dance floor. No dancing tonight. A few disappointed people turned around and left, which Erik sneered at their retreating backs.

Apparently, to _them_, real art was sleazy dancing.

He kept himself in the back, using the shadows to hide himself. It was very easy to do and after all of his years of experience… he could be in the open and still appear to be invisible. It was perfect and it allowed him the chance to observe and learn.

A half hour passed and the show hadn't started yet. Erik was growing impatient. He had to hear her sing! What could be taking so long? He took a step out to see what was delaying her when a young man walked past him. Quickly, Erik returned to the darkness and watched as the boy took a seat at the bar. It didn't matter as the lights began to dim and the curtain started to rise.

His heart—longtime dead—suddenly gripped him. It couldn't beat but at that moment he felt like it did ceased beating when the heavenly vision glowed from the stage.

There she stood… her figure clad in the soft, silky white and black dress; her brunette curls pulled halfway up, the rest spilling over her shoulders. The light from behind illuminated her face and those large, blue eyes that she truly did looked like an angel.

He couldn't look away from her visage or her mouth when she began to sing. His eyes slipped closed as her melodious voice washed over him. Not only the look of an angel, but she sounded like one! Then the most astonishing bit… she didn't possess Christiana's voice. They weren't even close. Yes, Christiana did have a lovely voice, but there was something that she had lacked that Christine did not.

Confidence and skill.

It was evident that Christine had training over the years and she wasn't afraid to show her range. Christiana had some training, but she never could handle the full extent that her voice could do. Even when she performed his opera, she couldn't bring herself to sing the high notes that Erik knew she was quite capable of doing if she believed in herself.

But Christine…

She could do it, he realized. She could sing the part that he wrote for Christiana with ease. No… not Christiana's part. This was _Christine's_.

However, the moment was ruined when his ears picked up an annoying voice.

He glared at the young man from earlier who didn't seem to be all that entranced with the angel on stage. His back was to her!

Erik clenched his fists, the demon within roaring to tear the boy apart. Didn't he realize that he was ruining this glorious performance? His fangs were already bursting through his gums, but he held himself back. He would be no better if he were to interrupt her, then the most curious thing happened.

The boy pulled out a notepad and a clip to show the bartender. There was no denying the glint that it was a badge.

The fangs retracted and Erik narrowed his eyes. _A police officer._

As if sensing someone, he turned around and Erik was able to get a better look at him. He was awfully young and too boyish looking for any criminal to take him seriously. With his too perfect, flawless features with a shapely nose and chin, he had a full set of fair colored hair that was long enough to curl at the end around his ears.

Just by appearances alone, Erik instantly despised him. He had the air that everything had been granted to him without lifting a finger to work. And he seemed quite confident that the bartender he was interviewing would give him the information he wanted.

"_So, Tom, did you see this girl at all a couple of nights ago?" _He pulled out a picture and showed it to the said man.

Tom took a good look and answered, _"Yeah. I remember serving her some drinks. Wait; is that the Sheila Grace chick from the news?"_

"_Yes. Do you remember if she was with anyone?" _

"_Well, like I told the cops, I gave her a couple of drinks and she had a girlfriend with her. Then she disappeared."_

"_Did you see her go with anyone? Another friend?"_

"_Nope. I know the girl she was with came looking for her and then went back to dance."_

"_That's all? She didn't seem to wonder where Sheila could be?"_

"_Sorry man. But we get a lot of pretty faces here and they all tend to blur. I know people will hook up and whatnot, but I honestly don't remember if she left with someone. She was here drinking and the next she was gone. We were busy."_

"_Do you know if there was anyone else working at the bar that night I could talk to?"_

The bartender frowned. _"Don't you guys already have that in a report or something?"_

"_Look, I'm just double-checking. To make sure nothing was missed. Who knows? This may have been a one time deal, but if the killer felt confident enough that he got away, then chances are he will come back again."_

"_Really?"_

The cop nodded. _"With this one… I know it's not the last."_

Erik wanted to laugh out loud. So this _moron _thought he could catch him? Certainly, NYPD could do more than this child to look for a monster. Although, perhaps, he could have fun with this one. Leave a few more bodies and a little clue here and there before he confronted him and squeezed every last drop of blood out of him.

That would certainly make this city more interesting.

Erik resumed his attention once more to the show, making sure to listen in on the conversation between the cop and the bartender. To his regret, the first act ended and one of the band members announced that Christine would be taking requests after a brief break.

Erik hoped that no one requested a contemporary song.

A few minutes later, his angel appeared and she was walking towards him! She couldn't have possibly known that he was here… could she? Again, thoughts of Christiana returned, but she swerved to the side to the bar. Each step she took was rigid and her body was all tensed.

She knew the cop.

Erik watched as he quickly put the pad he was writing on away and stepped to greet the singer. To his delight, she avoided his embrace and sat down next to him.

"_Still mad I take it. Look, Christine, I said I'm sorry—"_

"_Can I ask you one thing Raoul?"_

"_What is it?"_

Erik waited in anticipation as the boy said her name. Then, she turned towards him and asked:

"_What did I sing tonight?"_

So she knew that he hadn't been watching her. Her boyfriend couldn't take an hour of his time to listen to the precious woman perform. And, of course, he failed to answer her correctly.

What followed next Erik devoured with his eyes and ears. It was all too perfect that they would have a falling out right at this point in time that he couldn't have planned it better. Ever since he learned that she had a paramour, Erik knew he would have to get rid of him at some point. And this beautiful angel went ahead and did it already for him.

"_We're done Raoul." _

Those words were music to his ears. She turned and left the dumb-stricken boy behind. It took him several minutes to come to terms at what just occurred, but Christine was already getting ready for her next part of her show.

But did the boy stay?

Of course not. He left as soon as possible, no doubt trying to preserve whatever dignity he had left. But the result… Christine sang wonderfully than before! As she continued, Erik's fingers were itching to get to his piano and write. The unnatural and heavenly songs were coming to him and he needed to return to the apartment immediately.

He left the club as silently and stealthily as he entered and found Buquet was still gone.

Good.

Erik played with a force that was unlike any other. He couldn't get the image of Christine out of his head and her voice… that divine voice! Oh, the music that he could write for her… he trembled at the thought of her singing his words—_his words_! And it was a feeling unlike any other. Excitement, passion, lust, all whirled into one.

If he hadn't fed earlier, the demon would be emerging with a bloodlust. And he craved her now more than ever. Not her blood… no. But everything else—her voice, her heart, her soul, and her body—he needed to possess it all. He never felt this way for Christiana. His feelings had been pure, his love innocent. He would have been satisfied to have her in his life and sing for him. He hadn't desired anything beyond that, but this time was different.

Christine was different.

She inspired him in ways that his past love hadn't. He hungered for more of her singing. The sampling he received was just as appetizer. He had to have her.

He didn't have to worry about the boyfriend, and there was more for him to learn about her before he could take her away. Ah, but Erik could be patient when needed to and to get his way at a second chance… he could wait.

As his music began to soften, Erik heard a soft cry and his senses alerted him that he wasn't alone. One deep inhale and he knew it was Christine.

_Perfect._

He finished the song and stood. There she was in the moonlight—her eyes darkened to a midnight blue, her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, and her makeup had faded but still she was a lovely sight.

And his music touched her! Now, he was certain that Fate returned her to him. No… brought to him. Despite the resemblance, Christine was nothing like Christiana. This had to be a reward for all the sufferings he endured in his mortal life. Luciana's curse was fulfilled and this was his opportunity to gain it all back. There was nothing else he could ask for—well, he still had his mask. He was still cursed, but at least he had his music back and soon Christine.

As they spoke, Erik couldn't help but noticed how her eyes seemed distant. He wondered if it had anything to do with the boy. She sung very well for someone losing their lover, but now… Was she regretting her decision? God, he hoped not! But to make sure she wasn't planning on going back to him, he asked her if she wanted to talk about it.

Her brush off was quick, but Erik couldn't be fooled. He asked her if she was sure, then the floodgates opened.

It was the boy! It upset him that the little prick still had influence over his angel's emotions. This would not do!

But she was here with him… that had to mean something. He had to find out and so he invited her over. He persisted until she reluctantly accepted. His comment on the biting was a jest, but he knew he had to be careful. His demon was satiated by the blood hours ago, but with her… he feared it would want to break free again.

Once he helped her over to his side, he welcomed her in. The apartment was pleasing to her and that satisfied him greatly. Not only did they have the same taste in music, but she liked his décor. This was very well indeed!

Her tea was made and he watched as she studied the poster of the Opera Populaire. He was convinced that she wasn't Christiana, but the way she kept looking at it… he started to have his doubts.

"Have you been there?" he asked.

"Afraid not. I've always wanted to go to Paris."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Since I was a little girl. It was always a dream of mine to sing there one day. Then… I made a life here. I still would love to visit one day, but I think I rather stay in New York and sing."

Erik didn't know if this was good or bad news. At least there was more proof that she wasn't Christiana, but to go back home with her… To hear her sing! It would be glorious!

She took her tea, and after a couple of moments, she started to tell him about Raoul and how he hurt her. Erik had to force the demon to stay hidden as she recanted what he already knew. To hear that louse's words again! What did he know about music? Nothing! It was a shame that she hadn't been contacted yet, but to throw that in her face? The only thing the demon craved now was Raoul's blood and his head on a platter. That would certainly make him feel better.

As she spoke, Erik knew the chances of her going back to him were very slim. After what he said and done, he destroyed whatever possible happiness they would have had together. Now… it was all Erik's turn. Again, he couldn't have planned this out better.

However, she was hurt by her ex-lover and Erik had to assure her that she shouldn't give up. The last thing he wanted was for her to stop singing. He just discovered her and he would be damned (again) if she were to leave it all behind.

The topic of conversation eventually turned to him. She wanted to learn about him! He was flattered that she wanted to know something about him. He knew he piqued her interest and that was very well. Being mindful of what he had told her previously, he continued the charade of being Buquet's nephew. When she mentioned The Incident, he went along with it. Whatever happened resulted in Buquet being dispatched, and that was fine with Erik.

When she asked what he did, Erik gave an honest answer. He had done all those things, especially in his mortal lifetime, which was a grand accomplishment. Not many humans could boast of that, and that was something he could look back and be proud of. But nothing compared to his love of music. He knew this would grab her attention, especially since she already heard him play…

Her innocent question about what happened that caused him to not play was to be expected. Yet, even after all this time, he couldn't avoid the pain in his voice about Christiana. Part of him would always be hurt by his lack of control and for destroying such potential… but when he looked into Christine's eyes… all that pain seemed to fade away.

Yes, the two women were different, but Erik felt a stronger pull to Christine. Hearing her sing tonight… it only solidified what he already knew when he first saw her. She was meant for him and no one else. Her voice, his music…

"Do you mind if I could hear another one of your songs?"

He was more than happy to oblige. This was his chance to tie her to him, and what better way, than the song that inspired him not too long ago.

Everything he had was poured into that song. The sorrow, the longing, the passion as he opened his mouth to sing the words that had been haunting him. The song revealed what was left of his embittered, damned soul. Even if she did not fully understand the meaning, it was something he shared that could touch her.

And it did. She was moved to tears.

Until the damned cat ruined the moment.

"I guess that's my cue to head back. Thank you for everything Erik. I appreciate it."

"It was my pleasure."

And oh it had.

They said their good nights and Christine disappeared into her bedroom. He waited as the light went off before he leapt over to her balcony. The window was still opened, but the damn barrier kept him from entering. If there was one inconvenience, then this was it.

But that would not stop him.

Gripping the brick, Erik used his supernatural strength to pull himself up. Like a spider, he crawled between her apartment and the one above hers. Then he turned to move down until he was looking into her bedroom window.

Her bed was facing him and she was lying on top of the covers, lost in a deep sleep. The day's emotions proved to be too exhausting for her, and as she was too far gone in her dreams, he was able to gaze upon her without her waking.

His attention was drawn to the slight rise and fall of her breasts, the thin material of her pajama shirt stretched across the pert mounds as her body shifted to the side. Part of the shirt rode up from the move revealing her smooth, flat abs; she may have been a singer, but she had a body of a dancer: nicely toned arms, shapely, muscled legs, and round buttocks.

Desire shot through his dead body as he devoured the sight of her. Perfection that's what she was. In his mind, he heard her sing as Mimi and the heat spread like wildfire, scorching every limb and he longed to break through the invisible wall that kept him back. He was nearly undone when her long, chestnut hair parted and revealed the milky white, slender throat.

The beating of her pulse rang in his eardrums. The slight prick of his fangs made him aware that his lust of the flesh was quickly turning to the blood that was flowing through her veins. He already fed but the demon was growing hungry once more and he trembled.

It would be so easy to lure her out of bed, to keep her in a sleep-induced state; while she invited him… he could take her right then and there. He could satisfy the two cravings and she would never know… it would seem like a dream…

But as he stood and watched over her, Erik knew that was not what he wanted. He wanted Christine to come to him on her own volition, to submit completely and wholly to him. If he simply took his desire now, then where was the thrill of the hunt… the chase? No… It was best to wait for now. She will come of her own free will and he will rejoice when that day comes. Until that moment, Erik would have to make sure that she would not forget him.

Erik softly sang a lullaby that put a smile on her lips.

TBC…

Review please?


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Sorry folks… but this is a Raoul-centric chapter. Even I was not looking forward to writing this chapter, but when I started writing it… well, this Raoul got to me. I know a lot of you think he is a jerk and I can't blame you because he was a jerk. But hopefully, this might add some perspective with his relationship with Christine. Also, this reveals more on his investigation with a couple of familiar faces.

I want to give a big shout out for my Dad who helped me with the police stuff. Yeah, I made up a lot of this, but he was able to point out my mistakes and to make it seem realistic. Thanks Dad!

Also, thank you to all my readers and don't forget to review!

**Chapter 11**

Raoul de Chagny was a fighter. Not in the physical, blood was pouring, bones cracking kind of way. But when it came down to the important issues in life, he knew how to fight to get what he wanted.

Did that mean it always worked? No… There were times, like any person, he would fail, but he used that to his advantage to learn from his mistakes. He was fortunate enough to say he never repeated the same mistakes twice.

Of course, anyone who knew Raoul, would think that this trait was unnecessary. What in the world did he have to fight for? All he had to do was snap his fingers and he could have whatever he want as his disposal. And if he wanted to, he would concede, although it would be a sour taste in his mouth. The last thing Raoul de Chagny wanted the world to know (and think) was that he was some spoiled brat.

Growing up, Raoul had a very comfortable childhood. His parents were wealthy enough and he wasn't required to lift a finger. Perhaps any one in his place would find this wonderful and not at all terrible, but Raoul would argue they were wrong.

He hated how everything was easy for parents. As a child, he would stubbornly refuse to let someone make him a snack when he could very well go into the cupboard himself. He didn't like that his parents were hardly around. They were always off attending lavish parties or throwing one at the house where Raoul had to keep to himself in his room. The parties were boring and held no interest for him, which was fine with his parents. There was no way he could embarrass them.

It wasn't that they didn't care about him. Raoul knew they loved him, but it was all about presentation and appearances.

It was a lifestyle that did not suit him in the tiniest bit.

The people his parents chose to associate themselves with were only after higher statuses. Knowing this person could you get into this club, then into another group of people who could introduce you to so-and-so, and it went on. And he was sad to admit that his parents were one of those who were climbing up the social ladder.

Raoul vowed that he wouldn't be like his parents. He didn't want to wake up to find he hadn't done anything useful to the world or use his full potential to help others. He wanted to work for a living, not to rely on others to make sure his needs were first and foremost met and looked after.

It was a rebellion that went well through his teens that his parents had hoped he would one day grow out of. However, that was not to be the case.

When he graduated from school, Raoul decided he wanted to go to the Police Academy. All his life he was fascinated with cops, and years ago, a very young Raoul was graced with the permission to hold an officer's handcuffs during a career day event. Holding the cool, steel links in his small hands he knew right then and there that this was his destiny. He wanted to chase after the bad guys and put them in jail and make the world a better and safer place.

Raoul knew it was a profession his parents wouldn't be thrilled about so to make sure his dream came true, he worked his way through high school. It was easy to lie and tell his parents he was studying at the library or was hanging out with his friends. They never knew that their son was receiving a paycheck and he was secretly putting the money away for his future. Of course, they wouldn't understand the pride Raoul felt every two weeks when he received a paycheck in the mail. He had this surge of pride that he did something to earn that money. It was so rewarding to know that he was like other people and not the small percentage of the elite.

So when the time came to start picking out schools, Raoul took the brochures from Harvard, Princeton, and Yale and ripped them in halves to the stupefied expressions of his parents' faces. His declaration that he was going into law enforcement just about sent them speechless… for a minute. The comical looks gave way to protests and exclamations about the dangers of a career, the number that are killed in the line of duty, the disrespect, the mockery and ridicule, and… what would their friends say? What would they think?

Naturally, it all came down to the single important reason why he should not become a police officer—the opinions of their high society friends.

Once more, Raoul was sickened by his parents' priorities. He knew they would be against it, but he never expected that their reasons of protests would be based on the opinions of their so-called friends. It angered him to the very core and he wouldn't hear anymore of their ridiculous arguments. He was going to the academy whether or not he had their blessings.

It took them a while, but eventually they relented, although the idea still wasn't appealing. To make amends, Raoul's father offered to pay for his classes, which he turned down. Raoul had the money saved up from over the years, and if he accepted, then he knew that if his father would have control and if he chose to stop… No. It was better for him to take care of it himself.

When the time came, he said good-bye to his parents and headed off to make his dream come true. Like to be expected, the training was difficult and challenging. There was a hardcore discipline to the life at the academy, which pushed Raoul to do his very best. It was draining physically, mentally, and emotionally, but for the first time in his life, he felt alive. At the academy, it wasn't about connections or high society. Everyone—men and women—were there with one purpose to serve and protect. No one cared he came from money and he could be himself. Yet, there were times being himself wasn't enough.

It shouldn't have come to be a surprise, but there were times when his fellow classmates would tease him over his youthful appearances. Even his drill sergeants would poke fun of him during routine drills, sometimes riding him the hardest with his baby boy face. It was meant to toughen him up, and it worked, but Raoul had his misgivings. He knew he looked young and the last thing he wanted was for someone to hire him to be part of a _21 Jump Street _scenario. He wanted to be out on the streets, putting those hardened criminals away; not dealing with dramatic teenagers. To avoid that situation, he threw himself into his studies and worked his tail off to get to the top of his class when he graduated.

And his efforts did not go unnoticed. He was fortunate to get a job as a deputy in Essex County's Sheriff Department. What he wanted was NYPD but at the time there were no openings. Besides, this was his chance to gain experience and it would benefit him rather than a fresh-face graduated cadet. In the year he spent at the department, Raoul saw many messed up things. He was never a drinker, but after one particular case, he was rethinking the notion.

There does come a time in every police officer's life that a crime of some nature takes place and it will make them question everything about humanity. For some, that case will become their obsession, an unsolved mystery perhaps, and while some can never shake the emotional toll that would affect their personal lives. Some even quit their careers, knowing they couldn't do this any more. Whatever that case may be, every cop has one that will change their lives forever.

For Raoul, his had started off as a missing child.

Four-year-old Anya Smith.

One look at the bright little girl with her milk chocolate complexion and wide, almond eyes, and curly dark hair and you couldn't help but be drawn in by her beauty. Raoul was determined he was going to bring that little girl home safe and sound. She had her whole life ahead of her and he refused to allow someone to take that away from her.

But as soon as the investigation and search went underway, something didn't sit well with Raoul. And that happened to be the father's story. According to him, Anya was in his car when he parked across a gas station to grab a quick snack. He was gone for five minutes top when he came out to find the car and Anya missing.

There were a lot of facts about this story that bothered Raoul. For one, why did he park across from the gas station and not in the parking lot? And why did he wait two hours to report this incident? Of course, the father waited at the station, hoping the carjacker would see there was a child and turn around to drop her off. It has happened in the past, but not something that everyone should assume would happen when a child was involved. Yet, all eyewitnesses' accounts checked out that the father was inside the gas station at the time the car was lifted and he stayed for those two hours. However, the story still smelled bad to Raoul, but he had no way how to prove it.

Hours turned into days, then weeks. The family and community pleaded and begged for whoever took the car to let the girl go. And everyone came out to search for her. It was an amazing response and everyone worked together, but all the uniting didn't help find her. The station was hounded daily with phone calls and tips about Anya and everything turned up to be false leads. No matter which way you turned, someone saw that child in every little girl. And as time passed the chances of finding her alive… were growing slimmer.

Yet, Raoul didn't give up. He was out there all throughout the nights and days looking for her. He questioned the family over and over again, especially the father. Every time they spoke, Raoul couldn't shake that he was hiding something from him. His superiors told him he was being ridiculous as the father had been cooperative from the start and even helping to lead the searches. True, his story was odd, but they couldn't find anything that would suggest the father had a hand in her disappearance.

It wasn't until by the fifth week that little Anya Smith was found. She had been beaten, raped, and buried naked a few miles out of Essex County in a wooded area.

Like any violent crime against a child, the world was disgusted and mourned the loss of someone so precious who just barely begun to live. Eventually, someone did come forward to confess. A guilty conscience and the fact he was haunted by Anya's face every day and night, which the discovery was a sign he should turn himself in and the others who were also responsible.

Anya's father sold his daughter and arranged the whole setup with the parking of the car and going into the gas station. Apparently, he couldn't bear to watch his child taken away from him. And for what purpose? Some extra cash to pay for bills.

The dirty rotten bastard. May he forever rot in Hell.

Naturally, the father did break down and admitted the truth, only pleased he didn't have to keep it a secret anymore. But that wasn't going to bring Anya back. Even though the bad guys were caught and put in their proper place, Raoul still didn't win. He failed to find Anya, he _failed _her.

Some cop he turned out to be.

For that one moment, he contemplated if he should quit. But if he quit… there would be other Anyas out there and what if he could save them? What if he quit only to find out he could have done something about it? Quitting would only hurt himself, not the other innocents. Somehow, that one sobering thought kept him from walking to his boss with his resignation.

Yet, he still continued to be plagued by Anya. A friend of his recommended he should go to the city and check out Box Five.

"You deserve a break. Go and knock back a couple of drinks and hang with the ladies. Someone will distract you."

Raoul detested nightclubs. They weren't his scene, but he could certainly use a distraction and if it worked out pretty well… maybe he might convert. The first night he went happened to be Classical Night. He did look out of place with his jeans and T-Shirt, but he honestly didn't care about appearances right now.

No… the only date he had to impress was his Budweiser.

While leading into the cliché of drowning his sorrows, Raoul nearly choked on his beer when he heard a voice—a soft, sweet, melodious voice—starting to sing. He turned on his stool, the drink forgotten, for a minute so was little Anya, and all he could do was stare in awe at the angel on stage. It was a song he never heard before and later he would find out it was from the opera _Hannibal_, but her voice! Such beauty!

He continued to stare, transfixed and mesmerized, as she finished the song with a strong end:

_Ahhhhhhhhhh of me!_

Never had Raoul been so enchanted and after she finished he was on his feet, applauding and cheering loudly. He was also tipsy and as much as he wanted to introduce himself… his current state wasn't at all attractive, not to mention he wasn't dressed to his best.

After that night, he was definitely going to be back again at Box Five. Except he would be completely sober, showered, and wearing a fresh pair of clothes. Then, and only then, he would meet the angel who brought a little life back in him—Christine Daaé.

xxXXxx

It was hard to believe that had been seven years ago, but Raoul looked back on that day fondly. He knew it was love at first sight, but the strength of his feelings surprised him.

All his life, he never had time for relationships and the concept was new to him. It took him at least a dozen more trips to Box Five to work up the nerve for a simple introduction. And it had been she who approached him!

Closing his eyes, he thought back to that glorious moment in time…

"_Hi! Did you like the show?"_

_Raoul almost lost his balance on the stool he sat as he looked over to find his angel standing right there. Her blue eyes were twinkling with mischief and she had this bright smile playing on her lips. For a second, he didn't know what to do and all he could do was gaped._

_Chuckling, the angel continued to speak. "I'm going to guess and say yes. I couldn't help but noticed that you have been coming only when I sing. I am flattered."_

_He knew he was staring at her like a fish, and he tried to get his jaw to work, to make some sound, but all that came out was, "Uhhmmm…"_

_Her smile widened and she gave him a little wink. "Well, I noticed and so did the waitress." She gave a little nod to a woman with blonde hair who gave them thumbs up. "My name is Christine."_

_At last, Raoul was able to find his voice. "Raoul de Chagny."_

"_Raoul…" she tested it and grinned. "Nice to meet you."_

It didn't end with a romantic declaration or a date. Instead, she did most of the talking and hinted that she hoped to see him again. Raoul left that night in a daze, but when reality hit him what happened… he couldn't help but curse himself for being a fool. Some first impression he made all right.

But Christine didn't seem to mind. He returned and after she was done either performing or waitressing, she would have a drink with him and talk. He was a couple years older than her, and like him, she was a dreamer. While his was about capturing the villains, hers was to become a singer on stage. There was no doubt in his mind she would be discovered soon…

But it never happened. She continued to sing at Box Five and she would go to auditions; however, she would capture small parts but they would never turn into anything bigger. Despite the years going by, she remained optimistic her break would come soon.

Until he ruined it.

But it was long before that wasn't it? The more Raoul thought about it a part of him told him he shouldn't have been surprised. The first time Raoul missed an anniversary there was an accident. Well, he had no choice with a hostage situation, but he made it up to Christine the very next night. Yet, somewhere down the road, the perfect couple changed and he was powerless to stop it.

He knew he wasn't always around, especially when he finally managed to get his coveted position in NYPD, but he tried to be the best boyfriend he could. He couldn't help or predict when crimes occurred and was it so bad that he wanted his career to go well so he could provide for his girlfriend? He loved her, he still did. And probably always will. Christine was his savior, his angel of song. She was everything he could have asked for and more…

So… why did he hurt her?

Raoul never intended to insult her about her singing. He knew how important it was to her. Out of anger, he lashed out and it was the most idiotic thing for him to do. She worked hard, just as much as he, and even though his dream came true, that didn't mean hers wouldn't. He regretted the second—no half a second—when those words left his mouth. But no apology would work as the damage was done and Christine walked away.

Raoul, the fighter, found himself for the first time at a loss on what to do. He was in shock, too stunned, to realize they were done. Over.

By the time she was back on stage for her second set, he got up and left. He supposed he should have stayed and tried to talk to her, and when he was about to go back inside to do that, he got a page from the Captain. Torn but with no other choice, Raoul turned around and headed to do his duty.

The precinct was chaotic as phones were ringing off the hook, people giving statements, the arrested screaming out obscenities.

_Just another day at the office_, he thought. He found Captain Harker standing by his office door looking agitated and anxious. The Captain was in his early fifties, tall, with graying short hair and thin mustache, and a walking ulcer waiting to happen. When Harker saw Raoul, he waved him to come over. As soon as he entered the Captain's office, the door was slammed closed.

"Did you find anything new?" Harker asked as he walked around his desk to sit down.

Raoul pulled the chair across from him out and sat down. "No. Same story. No one saw Grace leave with anyone. She drank and danced. Friend was MIA for awhile until she realized she was gone."

"Someone must have seen something," Harker said, tapping his finger. "I can't believe a club full of people did not see her."

"I'll keep checking, sir," Raoul said.

"Damn footage was goddamn useless," the Captain continued. "What is it with these young people and clubbing? Don't they realize how much of a waste of time it is?"

Raoul didn't answer, but he did offer to look at the footage again just in case something was missed.

"Knock yourself out de Chagny," Harker told him. "Anything else?"

"Just a timeline." Raoul took out his notepad and flipped to the front. "Grace arrived around 11pm with her roommate. At 11:20, she was seen at the bar. From 11:20 to 12:30, she was dancing. Then back at the bar right before 1 o'clock. It was between 1 and 1:30 that her friend noticed she was missing. First, she brushed it off that Grace was either dancing with someone or was in the bathroom. At 1:45, that's when the roommate started to worry about her disappearance. The club was crowded. If Grace met someone, which stands to good reason she might have, then someone had to have seen them. We're tracking down all the people at the club that night to see if someone did see something. The staff—" At this, Raoul almost choked, "didn't notice anything unusual."

If Harker noticed, then he didn't comment. "Keep checking. The last thing we want is to wind up with another victim."

"Right sir. Is there anything else you need for me to do…?"

Harker tapped his finger again on the desk, lost in thought. Then, finally, he said, "We have some new information. So far, no one and I mean _no one _knows about this."

Raoul nodded. "What is it?"

As if on cue, there was a knock and Harker granted permission for whomever to enter. Raoul looked and recognized him from being at other crime scenes. Seward in CSI. He was a nervous looking man, not very tall, but terribly thin with short dark hair that was beginning to bald in one spot, and round, wired glasses that had to be pushed up on his small nose. His eyes were a dull green and baggy while his complexion was haggard from spending the last couple nights awake. His expression was troubled, but there was a slight glint to his eyes that he knew something.

"Captain Harker," Seward greeted. He gave a nod to Raoul and took a seat next to the young man.

"Seward is head of our CSI and before was our top coroner," Harker explained to Raoul. Turning to look back at the man in question, "So did you examine the body?"

Seward nodded. "I have. Trust me, this is something I have never seen before nor do I have the words to explain exactly what caused this, but I have a theory."

Raoul sat up in his chair. He heard rumors about Grace's body, but no one was willing to share exactly what it was about. The scientist continued, "We told the public she had been attacked, which is true, but we never disclosed the nature of the attack, not even to her own family. We only showed the face for identification, making sure the rest of the body was hidden from their eyes. When I first saw the report, I thought it was a joke, but after seeing it for myself… part of me wished I never did. You see, I have heard stories about cases like this and this is the first I have seen proof."

Seward paused, wetting his dry lips, as if that little speech took everything out of him. Harker frowned and laced his fingers together. "Well, go on," he demanded.

The nervous man looked back and forth between Raoul and the Captain and he took a deep breath to prepare for his next words. "Sheila Grace's body was drained."

"Drained?" Raoul said, his brow arched as he repeated it to make sure he heard correctly.

"What do you mean drained?" Harker barked.

Seward sat up. "Drained! Like there was nothing left! She still maintained some of her bodily fluids, but her blood… There wasn't any blood."

The young officer felt the color fade from his face. "N-no blood?"

Seward nodded. "Let me tell you and you have seen this before, but when you cut open a body, there's going to be some fluid that'll spray. It happens. But she was dried. Not a single drop of blood was left. Not to mention, there was so little found at the crime scene… so the larger question at hand is this: Where did all the blood go? There should have been more in the alleyway, but there wasn't. So the blood had to be somewhere else."

"Right, so Grace wasn't killed in the alleyway. She was killed somewhere else and our killer dropped her off," Raoul said, nodding his head. "That makes sense. So we need to find a new site."

"Yes, normally I would agree, but there's a factor missing: the timeline. It doesn't match."

"What the fuck do you mean?" Harker demanded, his brows knitted together. "You said it yourself. The blood was somewhere else so there's another crime scene we need to find."

"The times don't match up from the moment Grace goes missing to the time of her death to the time her body was discovered. From 1 to 1:45, she's gone. At 2 o'clock she was found. We have an hour long window. It could very well be said that in the beginning of our timeframe, she was gone for an innocent reason. The bathroom say. That'll be about ten minutes when you think about the line and she could have been fixing herself up in the mirror. She goes back out to the bar and meets the killer. Perhaps, they shared a dance or two. That's another ten to fifteen minutes. Some simple conversation before the music brings them out. Now, that put's us twenty-five to thirty minutes in our window.

"He takes to her alleyway; first, they have consensual sex. Then he kills her. He probably was going to move her, but something stopped him. He could have heard something and ran until someone found her. Yet, if we looked at her death, she was drained. Now, we can argue that yes she was killed somewhere else and he dumped the body by the club to avoid his trail. Yet, he would have to take her some place that wasn't far from the club. There are hardly any abandoned buildings near Box Five and if he wanted to take her away, then he would have to use a vehicle. Now, NYCDOT reported no unusual traffic violations. There were speeders, but nothing to suggest it could be our killer from speeding to one side of town and back to the other for the drop off."

"Okay… so let's go back to the idea that the killer didn't take Grace anywhere but that alleyway. They hooked up and he killed her. Fits the timeline," Raoul said.

Seward shook his head. "Not quite. Remember, she was _drained_. Do you know how long it would take to drain a human body? A healthy adult would have about ten pints in their body. Now, if the aorta had been severed, then I would say, within 1-4 minutes. But that wasn't the case. She had no slash marks or anything that it would take for the amount of blood to be gone in a short period. The lack of mutilation would suggest it would take longer for the blood to leave, not to mention, she would have fought back."

"So there were no marks?"

At this, Seward cleared his throat and fumbled with his glasses. "Well, I didn't say that. There were no severe marks on the body."

"Okay, but something had to be there to make sure the blood got out," Raoul said slowly, making sure he was following correctly.

"Yes… there were a couple of puncture marks that would indicate the blood's exit—"

"Okay then back to the bigger question: where did the blood go? If not all over the place, then our killer must have collected it somehow."

Harker nodded. "Got to admit. That is one sick fucker."

"But how?" Raoul wondered aloud. "He would have to have a lot of jars or a container of some kind… unless." The young man looked back at Seward whose face had gone completely pale. "You said there were punctured marks. Where?"

The older man stared at his fingers before lifting his head. "T-The throat," he replied. "The blood was taken out of her throat."

The implication of this news took some time for Raoul and the Captain to digest. Then, Harker burst out laughing.

"A-a-a-a-re y-you t-telling me th-that a-a v-vampire is our m-man?" he said in between laughs while Raoul continued to look at Seward's ashen face. "You expect me to tell my men that they are looking for one those _Twilight _guys? Look for someone who sparkles? Better yet! Let's have the entire female population do the search. I'm sure they could sniff him out."

"This isn't a joke," Seward said gravely. "I admit I'm a skeptic, but look at the evidence. Surely, you can't deny what it's pointing to."

Harker had to brush away a tear. "Seward, listen to yourself. C'mon man! A vampire? What you really mean is that we have a lunatic with a fang fetish."

"That's not the point!" Seward exclaimed, the fluster in his tone helping him bring a little pink to his pallor. "This man… this person… whoever or whatever he is… has had a taste of blood. Who's to say he won't strike again? Or that we could already have another victim that we don't know about yet."

"Calm down Seward," Harker said patronizingly. "Really a vampire?"

Seward pushed back his glasses and glared. "I did some research and this isn't the first murder with the same MO. There has been hundreds like this one from the past fifty years and more so in other places. Victims ranging from all ages, men and women, children, the elderly, everyone. And do you know how many have them dismissed? Labeled as a cold case or haphazardly solved as a rare illness or freak occurrence? This is more than just a lunatic with a fang fetish. This has stretched on for _years_."

Raoul was oddly quiet during this exchange. Finally, he found his voice to say, "Dr. Seward… Are you saying that it's possible for vampires to be real?"

Harker looked from him to the scientist, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't believe I'm hearing this! First, Buquet with his damn bugs, and now you two are saying vampires are walking amongst us. What's next? The Wolf-man is coming to town? Maybe the Phantom of the fucking Opera is terrorizing Broadway?"

"I don't know!" Seward argued. "I'm just stating what I concluded based on the evidence and the facts. Do you honestly think I want to believe this too?"

Harker pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Fine. Say you're right. How the Hell do you expect me to charge a vampire?"

"I didn't say it would be easy," Seward said. "But in my research I found someone who might be able to help."

"An expert?" Harker snorted. "Fuck, the world has lost their minds."

Seward continued, ignoring the comment, "He might be the only one who can help. Or at least help put us on the right direction. We're not risking anything."

"Except our reputations if the media gets a hold of this." Harker sighed. "Fine. Seward, contact this source of yours, but gentlemen, this stays in my office. If anyone breathes a word, then you're both fired."

That was an easy agreement to make.

TBC…

All right, Harker fans don't hate me! When I pictured this Harker as the Captain, I wanted a tough-talking and profanity throwing captain. But this is mainly a Phantom story and I'm not focusing on the Dracula characters. They just have small cameos.

Also the Anya case is loosely based on a real case that was in the news for me. I changed the names and a little bit on what happened to the missing girl. I will say this at the time this chapter was written there were no arrests made until a couple weeks after and the father was charged for her death, but not for the reason I stated. That was fictional and the result of the arrest was purely coincidental. So if anyone who reads this and thinks, hey this sounds familiar, I was pretty upset about this case and the fact that it didn't seem like they would find her… I wanted to give it some closure.

That said, please leave a review! Or Erik here will stalk you and compel you into submission. Okay… that didn't sound as threatening as I hoped and I think we would all want Erik to do that. Well, Erik is compelling you to leave a review!


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Thank you everyone! To make up for the Raoul chapter this has some more Erik and Christine moments. Plus, Meg! Don't forget to review!

**Chapter 12**

A week passed and Christine woke refreshed once more. It was rare for her to get a decent night's rest, especially with her hectic schedule. To get one night was a blessing, but a whole _week_? Not only was it a miracle, but it was a gift from God Himself!

Her lips pursed into a smirk as a playful thought came to mind. _I wonder if Erik had something to do with it_. Silly, really. No person could cause another to sleep as well as she had… unless there was a physical exertion, which was so not the case. Yet, ever since her break up, she couldn't stop thinking about Erik and the times they had spent together never seemed enough…

_Speaking of which._

Christine went out to her living room, and like always, the curtains in the apartment were closed. She knew she shouldn't be disappointed, but she had hoped to catch a glimpse of him. Maybe they could have breakfast together instead of the late night teas… It seemed the only time she could see him was at night and it bugged her.

Sighing, Christine turned to feed Van Helsing, who was already pacing the floor impatiently. When he was taking care of, she prepared her own breakfast. As she ate, her eyes remained glue to the apartment, hoping Erik would open them. But that moment never came.

The first time she noticed the closed curtains, she brushed them off, thinking he was a late sleeper. His uncle wasn't a morning person either so it wasn't a big deal. However, as the day went on, the curtains were never disturbed. It wasn't until dusk when they would be opened. It was odd. Then the next day it would be the same thing. Curtains were closed during the day, opened at night. She understood if he wanted to sleep in, but how could the main curtains interfere when he was sleeping in a bedroom?

_Bedroom…_ Her mind wandered to the thought of Erik and her in a bedroom… together.

Blushing, she tore her gaze away and focused on Van Helsing who was staring at her.

"What?" she demanded, feeling the need to defend her thoughts to a cat. "It's perfectly healthy to be thinking of someone in an intimate way. I'm not a virgin and it's not like he can read my thoughts anyways."

Yet… for some reason, Christine was a little embarrassed. Perhaps it was Erik's old-fashioned ways—the way he dressed, the way he talked—that made her feel like an innocent schoolgirl all over again.

Then again, she hadn't felt this way in a long, long time. Not since she met Raoul…

Speaking of which…

Christine hadn't seen or heard from him since that evening at Box Five. She would have thought he would at least try to call her, to change her mind, to work it out, but there was nothing. She was astonished, sad, and angry all at the same time. He could have called to show he cared! Or something! But the silence proved stronger and the message was loud and clear:

He had no desire to be with her after all.

That was the punch in the gut that finally made the last seven years seemed like a waste of time. Raoul never had any intentions to take their relationship further and she had been kidding herself into thinking he was the One.

What else had been a lie between them?

Every concert, opera, musical, or even her own performances, did he really enjoy them? He said he liked music too, but was that a way for him to earn points in her favor? Pretend to be interested just so she would be in his arms? When it came to things he liked, she never pretended to like them, but she would go to a baseball or a football game so they could spend time together and do something that he loved. So why trick her into thinking he supported her to become a singer? If he knew she didn't have the chance, then why make her believe it was possible?

Could it be she was really chasing a useless dream?

_No!_ she told herself firmly. _It's not useless. _But then she remembered those stinging words and it _hurt_. Hurt because what if he was right? As much as she didn't want to believe it, she couldn't stop thinking if everything was a waste.

Of course, when she told Meg this, her friend gave her a crazy look and told her she was insane to believe what that moron said. Not to mention, Meg was just as shocked about the break up. She couldn't believe Raoul would say those things to Christine and that he didn't try to save what was left. Artie would have fought for her, but Raoul… He ran away. Meg said this showed that he wasn't good enough for her and he obviously couldn't understand the importance of her singing.

_Just like what Erik said._

Christine's mind drifted off once more towards the masked man. It wasn't strictly a physical attraction, but she also deeply admired the man. She never met anyone quite like him. Erik was so knowledgeable and it was refreshing to have someone to talk to about politics, books, and of course, music. The only people she could talk to about music had been her parents, and Raoul's knowledge was somewhat limited. But Erik knew. He knew about the beauty and soul in the words and every note. They could even have friendly debates over the greatest composers and arias written. There was no way she could have that conversation with Raoul. And it wasn't just about the discussions either. The part she loved most was when Erik played for her.

He would play Mozart, Bach, Beethoven, Chopin, Dubney, and any requests she made. However, it was his originals she longed to listen to. He only played a couple, which both brought her to tears, but the rest wasn't ready for her ears he told her. She had no idea what that meant, but before she could push it, he would ask her to sing for him. And she did. If possible, Christine sang better with Erik present. She found herself wanting to please him in a way she couldn't explain, to bring him to tears, which he would so often do. And she did.

There were a couple occasions when he had to stop playing to compose himself. At first, he had told her because it had been years since he heard something so beautiful and pure that he couldn't believe his luck to be in the presence of such divinity. It was a very nice compliment, one that Christine thought he was being a little too kind, but the way he said it… One look into his eyes and she knew he spoke the truth. He always seemed in awe whenever she finished singing.

But last night… she was able to see more of his feelings. After her rendition of "Habanera" from _Carmen_, his turquoise eyes blazed to a darkened blue, practically black, with longing and lust that she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks as she remembered.

With one look her body was set aflame, her heart pounding erratically. Lust, pure lust and desire, swept over her, and she wanted his hands on her to soothe the raging fire that was her skin… but she forced herself to look away, the spell breaking as her pulse slowly returned to normal. She tried telling herself it was the song. She had to pick that one to see… to see if he was interested. And she got her answer, yet… it was soon for her.

The last thing she wanted to do was look for a rebound. She couldn't do that to Erik, she had too much respect for him. And she liked him. A lot. He had been nothing but a gentleman to her, and here she was trying to seduce him with her voice. She felt awful and ashamed that she allowed this. He must have sensed her turmoil and went to play a lighter tune to break the tension. Erik didn't have to say anything and she was grateful, albeit embarrassed.

That was the other great thing about Erik. He knew what her feelings were. He knew when she needed to talk and when she needed to vent. He also knew that she was still hurting from her break up. Seven years was an awful long time to spend with one person, and moving on within a week was not a smart move. She had to wait until she was ready and he would be there for her. All of this was spoken without words, only music.

He was wonderful that was no doubt in her mind. And Christine knew she was very close to falling in love with him. It had been only a week, but she felt like she had known him all her life.

Of course, despite the very platonic end to their evening, she couldn't stop thinking about the way he looked at her. It shook her to her very core and she desperately wanted to feel his touch. Her dreams didn't help either as she replayed the events in her mind, but without her turning away.

_Locking her heated gaze into his own, she gave a short nod and whispered, "Yes." _

_He stood from the piano's bench, his dark pants already straining with his need, the white mask… so pale but it was glowing as his eyes continued to blaze into her. He held his hand out to her and in his deep voice, he murmured, "Come."_

_She could feel herself stand, and without breaking her gaze, she slipped her small hand into his larger one as he twirled her around so her stomach was pressed into the piano. His body pressed into hers, keeping her in place, as his fingers slowly danced down her arms, taking her hands and stretching them out on the black lid. His breath shuddered and she felt the cool, porcelain grazing her cheek as his mouth hotly took her ear._

"_You're mine Christine," he whispered, his voice taking a possessive tone as she gasped when his mouth moved to her neck. "Forever and ever. I have waited for you for too long. My Christine, my music."_

_He pressed a soft kiss to her pulse, which was ironically gentle as everything about him was hard and the kiss did nothing to calm her wildly beating heart. _

_Still teasing, he ran his hands down her side and then to the front of her jeans. She stiffened against him, waiting and needing for him to continue. The lowering of her zipper was torture as his lips and mouth continued their game against her skin, fueling the flames that were spreading all over her body. He tugged the jeans down and she moaned out loud as his cool fingers slipped inside her, curling and brushing against her nerves. Her nails dug into the piano and she groaned his name, begging for more._

"_Yes…" Erik moaned, adding pressure in her. "Sing. Sing for me!"_

She had erotic dreams before, but never one this intense. She could feel the outline of his body against hers, his fingers doing wonderful things as she sang for him.

_You know… maybe it's a good thing he's still sleeping_, she thought. If he were to appear in front of that window right now, she had no doubt that her face would be beet red and she wouldn't be able to look at him.

She glanced over and her eyes widened when she saw the time. She had her dress fitting appointment today! Christine estimated she had time for a quick shower and she ran past Van Helsing to jump in the tub. While she scrubbed herself down, she had another memory of her dream and she blushed at what Erik… _dream Erik _did to her. God knows Raoul wouldn't have done that!

A dark crease came over her face. No… she wasn't going to think about Raoul.

Now Erik… a smile blossomed on her lips and she entertained the idea if he might be interested in attending Meg's wedding as her date. She was a party of one now. And by that time she would get over whatever guilt she has if this became a rebound and pursue a relationship.

She turned off the water and grabbed a towel. As she dried herself off, she began to hum an old lullaby her parents used to sing her. It had been a long time since she thought about that song, but it seemed fitting with the man that was occupying her thoughts. The humming grew louder and it wasn't long before she sang the words:

_Angel of Music,_

_Guide and guardian,_

_Grant to me your glory!_

_Angel of Music,_

_Hide no longer_

_Come to me, strange angel_

xxXXxx

The dress appointment went very well. Meg had chosen well for her Maid of Honor gown, which was a big step up from her first initial choice. Christine admired herself in the mirror, twirling around in a small circle, feeling the fabric brushed against her legs.

"C'mon Christine! Let me see!" Meg squealed impatiently. "Stop looking at yourself and let me see! I'm the bride!"

Biting back a grin, Christine kept her friend in suspense for another a minute before she made her dramatic appearance. Meg let out another squeal, this time of delight, and ran over to give her a hug. Christine could only laugh, happy that she got the bride's approval.

It was a long, purple Grecian dress with a one shoulder strap covered in tiny purple flowers that went down to her opposite side. A pair of silver heels completed the look.

"Oh Christine! You're going to look so lovely! Well, not as much as me—"

"Well, I hope not!" she laughed. "I would never upstage the bride."

"I know you won't, but if you do I'll have to kill you."

"Roger that!" Christine said with a salute, which sent them both giggling. "So…?" Meg started. "If you don't mind me asking, are you and Raoul still going together?"

"I don't think so. He hasn't spoken to me this whole week so I doubt a wedding would be a good idea. But I do have someone else I think I might ask…"

"Who? And how come I don't know there's someone else!"

"I'm not going to jinx it since I haven't asked him yet. And… well, a girl can have her secrets," Christine replied in a conspiratorial whisper.

"Christine, you naughty thing! A man on the side. I didn't think you had it in you."

The said naughty thing snorted. "Hardly. Maybe. I like him, but I'm afraid he's going to think this is a rebound thing. Actually, so do I."

"Rebound?" Meg scoffed. "Honey, I didn't know you knew what that means."

"I don't want to ruin whatever we have going, that's all. I never felt this way before."

"He's special, huh?"

Christine nodded. "Way better than what I had with Raoul. I can't stop thinking about him! He's just so wow."

"Is this like Ramin Karmiloo wow?" Meg asked.

"Oh yeah." Both sighed with a hand fanning their faces.

"You're in trouble girlfriend," Meg said.

"Don't I know it!"

"So… am I going to get a hint on who this amazing guy is? Christine?"

She didn't answer only hummed as she went back to the room to change her clothes. Meg pursed her lips, shaking her head, while chuckling softly to herself.

_Oh yeah. She has it bad._

xxXXxx

Afterwards, the girls went out to lunch at a nearby café. While the hostess led them to their table, Christine slowed down her pace, her attention instantly caught by a newspaper's headline that someone was reading.

_Phantom Murder—Is it connected to Grace?_

_Another murder?_ She thought. _That might explain Raoul's_—

Her train of thought was interrupted when she bumped into someone. She quickly offered an apology, which the man uttered what sounded like "It's all right." His foreign accent took her by surprise, but he was gone before she could get a good look.

"Christine!" Meg called and she snapped back to reality. She rushed to the table and sat down.

"Meg… did you hear anything about another murder?"

"Yeah, I saw it in Artie's paper before I rushed out of the apartment. What kind of sick perv are we dealing with here?"

"I don't know. I bet Raoul's stressing out big time."

"Yeah. Poor girls. One minute enjoying life, the next, bam! Gone."

"Do you know if they are connected?"

Meg shrugged. "I don't know. But like Sheila Grace… there are no witnesses, no evidence, nothing. It's like the killer is a ghost or something."

"That's silly. There has to be prints," Christine argued.

"I would think so too. But from what I heard, it could be a cult thing. A Satanic ritual that requires a sacrifice of young women."

"Puh-_leese_," Christine said with a roll of her eyes.

"Never claimed I was a cop. But it might be a good idea if you didn't walk to work alone anymore."

"I'm not going to take a taxi four blocks away."

"Okay if not then maybe you should get your new beau to walk you over or something. I make sure Artie's with me when I go out at night."

"Meg, I'll be fine. Besides, I did take those self-defense classes and remember how I kick Raoul's ass?"

Meg chortled. "How could I forget? For a tiny thing, you can be strong when the time calls for it."

"Another secret. I could be Supergirl and you don't even know it."

"Okay, 'Supergirl' but don't go into dark alleys or follow strange men."

"Thanks Mother, but I'll be fine, trust me."

"Famous last words, my friend."

xxXXxx

When she entered her apartment, Christine couldn't stop thinking about the latest murder. It could very well be the same killer, but there was no way to prove it. With Sheila Grace, her death was kept tight-lipped on the details. And as she turned on the evening news, she discovered it was the same with this new one too. Only difference… no one knew the identity of the woman.

The more she thought about it… perhaps it wouldn't hurt to invest in another type of protection. Yeah she could fight back if she needed to, but it was a good idea to be armed. Pepper spray was sounding pretty good right about now.

She clicked the TV off and stretched as Van Helsing jumped into her lap. She stroked his back, and he was off again.

"Fine. I see how it goes," she mumbled. She turned, her breath catching, as she saw Erik at his piano. His window was slightly opened and she could hear the faint strings of the song he was playing.

Her eyes closed and she simply allowed it to wash over her. She felt safe, warm, and calm in his presence and his music. She checked on Van Helsing to make sure he was all right before she crawled out onto her balcony. As if he was waiting for her, Erik smiled as she let out a tiny gasp. He was already on his balcony and she couldn't help but raise her eyebrows in surprise.

"You moved fast," she said.

"I saw you and knew you would be coming out," he whispered and held his hand out to her. "Shall we?"

Christine slipped her pale hand in his and grinned.

TBC…


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Hi everyone! Thank you and welcome new readers! I have to make this short since I have to leave for work in a while so this is a quick edit so if I miss anything I will go back when I have more time to look it through. Don't forget to leave a review and check out my new story _Heaven by the Sea _if you haven't already!

**Chapter 13**

They spent an hour with the company of music—Erik playing, Christine singing. It wasn't until a loud grumble of her stomach broke the mood and she flushed in embarrassment.

"I guess I'm hungry. Sorry."

"Don't apologize. I didn't realize how late it was and you probably didn't eat supper."

Ever the host, Erik had some snacks already prepared for her. She took one look at the assorted French pastries and was too stunned for words that he took the time to do this. She picked up a chocolate éclair and took a bite. Moaning in delight, she said, "This is delicious!"

"I'm glad you approve."

"Did you make all this?"

He chuckled. "I'm pleased that you think so, but no I did not."

"Oh. Well, you have to tell me where you got these then. Is that a Napoleon Square?"

She took a bite and hummed once more. "You have to try this!" She held the treat in her hand. Erik smiled and wrapped his fingers around her wrist, bringing her closer with the offered morsel to his mouth. His eyes didn't leave hers as he bent his face to close his lips over for a bite. Her breath quickened and she couldn't look away as his jaw moved powerfully. Could it be possible to be aroused over something like that?

Christine trembled as he released her, her body mourning the loss of his touch.

"_Oui_," he murmured and it took all her willpower not to melt into a puddle on the floor.

"So…" she coughed, her voice quivering after each word. "C-Can you tell me more about Paris?"

Indulging her, Erik began to tell her of the beauty of the city. He told her about the vast gardens and parks, the art, and the music that can be heard playing on the streets. She closed her eyes and imagined everything he described. The beauty of it all! Then, somewhere in the midst of his story, he spoke about Paris's dark side. The disappointment and cruelty that can be found… a betrayal that could tear a man's soul apart with words and actions.

So caught up in it, Christine said, "But she truly loved the music you wrote for her."

"Wh-what did you say?" Erik stared at her in disbelief, his turquoise eyes filled with alarm, and there was a slight edge in his voice.

Blinking rapidly, Christine didn't realize she said it aloud. "I'm sorry—"

"No," he said firmly, a frosty gaze came over his face. "What did you mean by that Christine?"

She honestly didn't know what possessed her to say that, but when she opened her mouth next, even she was stunned to hear what she said. "Your story… you had that faraway look in your eyes and your voice… I know you had a broken heart, and I can't help but feel there's more to it. The girl. She loved everything you did for her—the gifts, the music. She lied about hating it because she didn't understand, and after the performance, a misunderstanding. She thought you were someone else, especially since she never saw your face—" She slapped a hand over her mouth as Erik moved away from her.

Like a guilty child with her hand caught in the cookie jar, she watched as he paced the floor. Finally, in a clipped, restrained tone, he turned to her and asked, "Why would you say something like that? You couldn't possibly have known! Well?" He reached out, his hands clasping both sides of the arms of the chair. His face, barely hiding the rage that was building up, but his eyes contained such sadness mixed with anger that she knew she was right and it caused her heart to go out to him.

"I don't know how I know, but I'm sorry she broke your heart Erik. You know it doesn't have to be like that. You don't have to keep punishing yourself for what you had no control over. She was a fool, and at the same time, she was scared." Christine raised her hand and tentatively caressed his unmasked cheek. He shook from the simple gesture that it gave her the strength to do what she had been dying to do for so long.

She cupped his face and pulled him down so she could press her lips against his.

xxXXxx

Pleasure coursed through his veins as he took… took… and took.

Just as she was about to scream, he pushed harder, deeper, snarling in his throat. Within moments, she fell and the demon was pleased, but Erik was still tense.

Too many emotions unleashed, stronger than ever before, not from a look but a taste.

_She kissed him_. Christine kissed him!

Looking down at the discarded body, all he could see was her… Gently placing her lips against his, the sweet caress as she coaxed a response out of him…

His fists clutched at his side and he was swept back in that moment of time when her tongue traced his lips, begging to be let in, and he allowed her invitation… such exquisite torture! The teasing and then the dancing of lips and tongues… the intense pleasure coursing through them; a hunger from within demanding to be released, the beast roaring for more. More of her taste, her sighs, her blood…

He was no innocent. He had countless encounters with women over the century, using their bodies to satiate his hunger for the flesh. Sex to him was a primal need and his appetite had grown with the intense urge to release when the demon was in control. Yet… he never kissed a woman. There was something intimate about the act, and he didn't want intimacy when all he wanted was a good fuck. But with Christine… God! It was a slice of heaven for her lips to mingle with his!

The scent of death called him back and he looked upon the body with distaste. There was no need for him to feed since he fed not too long ago, but he couldn't help himself. It was Christine. She did this to him.

_Her soft, warm skin; the lavender scent of her hair tickling his nostrils, stroking and twisting the soft curls… her heart pounding loudly, the blood drumming beneath his fingers… the sharp prick of an incisor sliding—_

_He broke apart from her violently. Her eyes dazed and cloudy with desire, her mouth swollen and bruised, her cheeks stained with a pinkish hue. The blood he tasted was not from her… if it was she would be screaming. _

"_Erik?" God! Her voice! Raspy and filled with lust. The demon was yelling to TAKE… TAKE… TAKE! She was ready for him, her arousal permeated the air, and he knew she would be wet… it would be so easy to take her as she was, pliant and complacent, her blood coursing through her veins… he could practically see it._

_Erik turned away, quickly moving away with his back to her. In a low, guttural tone, he growled, "Leave Christine."_

"_Erik, what-?" She was confused. _

"_Get out!" He roared causing her to jump. _

_His body stiffened and he lurched over the piano. His nails digging into the instrument. The bones in his face were shifting, the mask coming loose with the change. He heard her soft feet approaching him and he darted away, keeping one hand over the mask to keep it in place. _

_She couldn't see. She mustn't! _

_Letting out a low moan, he grabbed the first object—a lamp—and smashed it against the wall. She let out a gasp. Fear… He could smell her fear and damn him he loved it. Her arousal and fear… so intoxicating and all he had to do was turn around…_

"_Get out! DAMN YOU! LEAVE NOW!" _

_She fled. Not out to the window to the balcony. No… she couldn't get over by herself. She ran out the door, her feet stampeding down the hallway. _

_He ripped the mask off as the final shift took place and the demon was present. No not Erik… never Erik. This was the Angel of Death and he was hungry. _

_He grabbed his cloak, throwing it over his shoulders, and ran out the window and started crawling down the wall to the street below. The various scents of the city flooded him, shielding Christine, who was no doubt within the crowd. But despite losing her, his senses were back in that apartment with Christine… her taste; her pulse, everything, and the demon craved her more than ever._

_But not her! Never her! Someone… someone… _

_Using his unnatural speed, he seized the first woman in his sight, clamping a hand over her mouth to muffle her screams. In a blink, he pulled her into the alley where the shadows were the darkest… She fought him, kicking and punching, but it only served to arouse the demon more and he dove down… white piercing pleasure and he greedily drank._

The demon was no longer present and Erik was now walking, keeping to the shadows, to hide his face. He shuddered knowing how close he was to turning against her. He couldn't. Not when he just found her, at last reclaiming his music. If he let the demon win, then there was no going back. Christine would be lost to him and his music would disappear forever.

And it had been a kiss that nearly undid him.

He had to be careful. He had to remain calm around her. That is… if she wanted to see him still. Somehow, he knew she wouldn't be able to stay away for long. She was drawn to him, like he to her. She would return on her own, and if not, he could lure her back with his music. They were connected by an unspeakable bond.

She knew…

She knew things that she never bore witnessed to… unless, it had to be. Perhaps, she really was Christiana at a single point in time.

A far, distant memory from his former life resurfaced. Back in Persia, an old friend once spoke about reincarnation, which at the time; Erik thought it was complete nonsense. But could it be?

It must!

How else could she known what she spoke of?

If his talk of Paris could trigger that, then how long would it take for another memory… a much darker, sinister one to return?

A wise man would choose to stay away, especially when the truth was so close. But Erik never claimed to be a wise man and staying away from Christine wasn't an option.

He would have to be careful what he said around her, lest he awaken any unpleasant memories. He couldn't lose her, not when she returned again. If Christine left, then there was no doubt he would be able to control the beast that resided inside of him.

His walk led him to Box Five and the marquee displayed it being Classical Night. He knew Christine wasn't singing tonight and that meant it was that Carlotta woman performing. Oh yes… he knew about her all right from his angel—the woman with no talent when it came to singing classically. Not to mention the tricks she played on Christine to get her way…

A dark look crossed his features. _No one _should sabotage his Christine! In the back of his mind, the demon was starting to whisper, and he agreed something needed to be done.

Once more, Erik was able to sneak into the club without notice. He had his cloak pulled tight to cover his marred face and he kept away from everyone else as the show began. He couldn't help but noticed that the crowd wasn't as large when Christine sang. Clearly, to whoever owned this place, should know that it was Christine the people wanted.

Then he saw her.

_Carlotta_.

The demon hissed at the over-the-top dressed woman as she sauntered to the microphone. She was more attractive than Christine with more curves to accentuate, but her voice… It was blasphemous! There was no life, no passion, and no pitch. If anything, this so-called singing was screeching!

What fucking _idiot _would allow this sin to happen?

His eyes scanned the floor before settling on a man in a garish looking suit. Everything about him screamed pomposity, especially by his posture as he bent his head and talked fervently to the other gentleman next to him. The latter was nodding and scribbling something on a notepad. No doubt that he was the owner and the other was an agent of some kind from a theatre. And both were talking about Carlotta!

Erik fumed as the surge of red hot anger flooded his veins. How could they possibly think that _that _oversized peacock should be considered for a coveted spot on the stage when the one who truly deserved it had the day off?

This was a crime that was most foul and clearly set up. Erik had already made up his mind about Carlotta, but witnessing the tragedy that would enfold, only made him knew he had to take action _immediately_.

Fortunately, the time came for a break and Erik snuck backstage. He blended into the shadows, waiting as he watched her enter the dressing room. He moved quickly, creating a cool breeze in his wake, as he opened the door and stepped inside.

TBC…


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Hello everyone! Here's a little longer chapter and there is some time jumping, but this is all important information. Again, I like to thank my father for editing the police parts to make it realistic.

**Chapter 14**

_Earlier that week…_

Another body turned up.

The second victim—a redhead who appeared to be in her early thirties; although, it was difficult to be certain of her age when there was hardly anything left of her face. It didn't take long for the vermin to make work of the corpse once it had been dumped, but there was no doubt that it was the same killer.

Like Sheila Grace, her body was drained of blood, but this time the killer got carried away and took a good chunk of flesh from her neck and shoulder. The other damage done was post-mortem thanks to Mother Nature. Seward examined the body and confirmed what Raoul and the Captain already knew: there was a second body and how long before another showed up?

Harker hit the roof. One victim was bad, but two? It was a matter of time before the media sniffed this out and put two in two together of a serial killer walking the streets of New York City. Of course, this new body was found differently. She hadn't been dumped in the alley by a club; instead, she was found near the wharf. Some punk kids who were daring one another to swim in the waters found the body.

They tried to do their best to ensure the public's ears wouldn't hear of it so soon, but they were only able to buy a few hours by detaining the kids for trespassing in order to come up with a plausible story. The woman was in a cocktail dress so she could have very well have been drunk and drowned, which her body was washed up on land and nature took its course. What Harker hadn't counted on was for one of the kids to snap a photo of the body before they were hauled off to the station.

It was a matter of time before it would be known that the woman was murdered. Seward said he left a message to the expert about what was happening, but had yet to hear back from him.

Harker wasn't happy at all and demanded that Seward call him again and tell him that he better get his ass here!

Raoul watched the Captain paced in his office, and then looked down at his open cell phone. Christine's name was glowing on the tiny screen, waiting for him to make that call. He knew what he wanted to say, what he had to say, but he froze from pushing the Send button. He could trust her. She wouldn't tell anyone, except for Meg, but the two could keep it a secret. They wouldn't sell it to the media. But… would she listen to him? After everything, he knew they needed to talk, and he was afraid how she would receive him. If she hung up, then she had the very right to do so since he was the insensitive asshole. But at the time… her life could very well be endangered.

It was a realistic justification.

"de Chagny!" barked Harker. "Get in my office pronto!"

It had to wait. Again.

Flipping the phone shut, Raoul stood and went inside. "Close the door," the Captain ordered and sat down. His hands ran through his hair in frustration. "Please tell me you have something new on this vic."

"Not yet sir. There was no ID found on the body, but the lab is running her fingerprints to see if there's a file on her in AFIS."

"Very well. Keep looking and keep me informed. By the way, have you seen that blasted Seward?"

"No sir. If I do, do you want me to send him here?"

Harker thought about it and shook his head. "No. You can leave."

Raoul walked out of the office and back to his desk. He pulled out his cell phone again and looked at Christine's number. He was a fucking coward.

xxXXxx

Two hours later the lab got a hit. The victim's name was Lucy Hale, thirty-two years old, call girl. Apparently, she was hired to go to a party with a client before she was killed.

Immediately, Raoul called her employer to inform them of her death and to get any new information about her whereabouts. He thought he would have to fight for what he wanted, but the person on the phone was all too willing to tell him everything he needed to know. Within minutes, Raoul had an address, a number, and the records of her past clients for the last couple of weeks.

The address was local and he stopped there first. Unfortunately, Hale lived alone but her landlord did give him an address of an emergency contact if Hale got into trouble. The man said Hale was a nice girl, although her occupation was little left to be desired.

"So why did you let her stay here if you knew there might be a potential chance of her bringing home one of her clients?" Raoul asked.

The elderly man shrugged. "She always paid her rent on time and she got along well with everyone. She assured me she would never bring her work home and I believed her. She was good with her word."

"Then why a call girl?"

"The money, perhaps," the landlord suggested. "She made a lot from what I understand, but for the most part, a lot of her clients were lonely men looking to spend some time with a beautiful, young woman. A dinner out, maybe a movie, but nothing more. I was almost tempted to hire her, but I didn't want to look desperate."

Raoul nodded and left the apartment to visit her friend. So this Lucy Hale was a decent human being with an unsavory job. It seemed like all the nice people in the world were the ones to be hurt the most. He texted the new information to Harker and headed up the stairs to see one Ms. Sorelli Jameson.

He wasn't prepared for the sultry blonde bombshell when she opened her door. He had to keep himself in check, reminding himself he was a professional, and it wasn't polite to stare… But he could sneak a little peek.

"I'm Detective de Chagny from NYPD, homicide division. I'm here to talk to you about your friend, Lucy Hale."

"Lucy?" she repeated, then her eyes widened in horror. "Homicide? You don't mean she's the one the news just talked about… the unidentified woman?"

Raoul nodded. "I'm afraid so. Do you mind if I come in and ask you a couple of questions?"

"Yes, yes. Of course! Please." She opened the door wider so he could enter. "Sorry about the mess. I wasn't expecting anyone." Raoul took a good sweep around the apartment, wondering what she meant by apologizing for what mess. Then he spotted a pair of men's pants thrown haphazardly across the sofa and boxers were on the floor.

Sheepishly, Ms. Jameson moved quickly and picked up the clothes and tossed them into a room. "I… had company last night."

"Don't worry. I'm not going to charge you for men's clothing."

She blushed. "You must know what Lucy did and I have to tell you… that's not my line of work. I'm a barista and single."

"No judging here."

Sorelli nodded. "Have a seat. Can I get you a coffee or water?"

"No, I'm good. Thank you." Raoul took a seat on the sofa while she sat in an armchair across from him. She tucked her legs beneath her and looked down on the floor.

"So… someone murdered Lucy. Christ, I was afraid this was going to happen. But all of her clients were so harmless… She never had one who raised a hand to her or threatened her or…" her voice cut off as tears welled up. "I'm sorry."

"She was your friend. It's understandable for you to be upset." Raoul reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. "Here."

She reached for it and nodded thanks. She wiped her eyes, and then lowered it into her lap. "What do you need to know?"

"I take it she didn't have any jealous clients? Or boyfriends who wouldn't like her profession?"

"No. Lucy liked being single. She liked the freedom it came with it. So no boyfriends to tangle with. If she did date, then it was short lived and she made sure they never got to close."

Raoul wrote this down. "Clients?"

"They were your typical lonely sort. Older men who never had luck with love or women. She had some who were widowed and who missed their wives terribly. Those were her favorites. All they wanted to do was to talk about their wives and their grandchildren… and it was very sweet. It was like she had a chance to look into their lives and enjoy the simple pleasures. Of course, she did have some admirers. They would often kid her that they would save her from this life, but they never did. And she didn't want them to either. She liked it too much."

"You can't think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt her? Did she ever owe anyone anything?"

"No. Everyone liked her. She never gave anyone a reason not to like her."

"What of her family?"

"Lucy hasn't kept in touch with them for years. They weren't exactly thrilled what their daughter decided to do with her life, but if they wanted to kill her, then they would have done so a long time ago."

"Okay. Did you talk to her recently before…?"

"Yes. As a matter of fact, she texted me." Sorelli jumped up and ran to her room to get her phone. In seconds, she came out and handed it to Raoul. "She would always call or text me when she was meeting with a client just in case. Sometimes it would be like a nickname of one of the men or the usual or something so I would know she was all right."

Raoul scrolled through her messages and found one that was dated four nights ago. _Party was a bust. Going to the bar to relax. _

"A bust, huh?" Raoul commented.

She nodded. "A business party with a client. She had to pretend to be his girlfriend, which was pretty boring. A bunch of stuffy lawyers."

He looked down and found another one. This one was sent a couple hours after the first message. _Hey S. I might be home late. There's a hottie. _

"She met someone?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. You had to see Lucy. She's gorgeous."

Of course, she didn't look all that gorgeous on the coroner's slab, which Raoul wasn't going to say that to her friend. Another one was sent ten minutes later and that was the last one she would ever send.

_Leaving bar. Guy very charming but little weird. He's wearing a mask, but I think it's because he went to a masquerade theme party. I'll let you know how it goes!_

xxXXxx

_Present Time_

Carlotta was missing.

Not only did she skip her second set for Classical Night, but she also didn't show up the next day either. It wasn't surprising; considering this wasn't the first time she pulled a stunt like that before. Someone must have said or done something that would cause her to throw a diva tantrum and leave work for a couple of days.

By the third day, Angus was pitching a fit over Carlotta's disappearing act. He was livid that Classical Night, especially since there was that scout from the Met that was there. Of course, since she left, the man was no longer interested in Carlotta. Now, he was throwing all sorts of obscenities now that she wasn't returning his calls.

Christine was stunned, albeit stung, that the scout hadn't been there the night she performed. But she was relieved that the deal was shut down. She still had a chance, but from what she could hear, the scout wasn't coming back anytime soon. However, the rumor mill was bursting at the seams.

Some were saying Carlotta secretly signed with another opera house and she left the way she did, hoping to raise a better deal with the Met. The other crazy rumor was Carlotta was kidnapped by the killer roaming the streets, the one that was now dubbed the "Phantom" by the media. Of course, that one was out of the blue and no one really believed she could be a victim. If anything, she would drive the Phantom to suicide. Then mystery solved.

Either way, Carlotta didn't show up and it was her turn to sing. It wasn't Classical Night, just a regular evening of today's hits interspersed with a guest DJ. However, they had a while before Carlotta was due to perform, but that did not help Angus' nerves.

Tonight, Christine was scheduled to waitress. She thought about going in to say she would sing, but thought against it. Let Angus stir in his whole mess. She had asked him countless times whenever a scout would be present or if he could put a word in for her, and he never delivered. So… in retrospect, she didn't owe him anything and she wasn't going to sing unless he begged.

And Angus _never _begged.

Perhaps if he was hard up for a singer, then he might. Time would tell.

Until then, she was doing her job and clearing off tables. Balancing the tray with empty glasses in one hand, she took out a cloth to wipe the table down. When it was cleaned, she turned around to head back into the kitchen when she bumped into Raoul.

He startled her, almost causing her to drop the tray, but she managed to steady herself before anything fell off. Taking a deep breath that a catastrophe was avoided, she pushed back a loose strand of hair and glared at him.

"What a surprise. Now, what the Hell are you doing here?"

Raoul winced, but she wasn't going to apologize. She did nothing wrong not when he chose to ignore her all this time. Well, it was his loss now that she was with Erik.

"I deserve that and more, but I need to talk to you. This is really important."

"Important… okay, yeah, sure let me go ahead and put this tray away and get back to you… say in about ten days."

"Christine, look, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hadn't called or tried to put things right. God knows I wanted nothing more to do just that, but it didn't work out that way. And I wished I could turn back time, but I can't. And you can go ahead and ignore me, but first, I do need to talk to you. It's about these murders…"

"Naturally. The murders," Christine interrupted, shifting her weight on her feet. "When has that not been involved yet?"

"I get it. You don't have to keep throwing it back in my face. I know what I did and said so far. But this is important and I fear it might involve you."

"Wait… me?" she repeated, looking confused.

"Yes. Now, can we go somewhere private and talk? Just give me five minutes that's all I ask."

Christine bit her lip and glanced from Raoul to the rest of the customers that were starting to come in. It would be a rush shortly but if it was only five minutes…

"Okay fine. But five minutes is all you get."

Relief broke out across his features and he let out the air he was holding in. "Thank you."

"Follow me." Christine set the tray at the edge of the bar and led him backstage towards her dressing room. She ushered him inside and closed the door. Crossing her arms, she said, "Go ahead and talk."

Raoul went over to one of the chairs in the room and sat down. "There have been some developments in the Grace case. This has not been revealed yet to the press and it won't as long as we keep this quiet. The last thing we want to do is cause a panic and have some jackass blow a fuse or go nuts. So you need to promise me that what I tell you stays in this room."

"I promise."

"Good. Now, I'm sure you heard about another woman found dead. Right now, there are speculations that they are connected, but nothing has been said to confirm whether or not it's true. And, frankly, we want to keep it that way. But so you know, they are connected. Both victims were attacked violently, but this recent one suffered the worst trauma. She was barely recognizable. Yet, the matter of death is the confusing part and the most terrifying… both women were drained of their blood."

"Hold on… did you say drained of their blood?"

"Yes," Raoul nodded. "I thought it sounded nuts too. I mean… it's not impossible. A person can be drained, but it takes a long time and there would be a huge mess to clean. But hardly a drop of blood was found in both crime scenes. With Grace, we know she was killed on the spot, but this new one was definitely dumped there. She was murdered somewhere else. Unfortunately, since we don't know the exact location it's difficult to say if the blood all went to the same place. But I'm certain it is. I have seen both bodies and I'm telling you Christine… it was something out of a horror movie. They looked… deflated if that's the right word. And Seward from Forensics mentioned he had seen cases like these before. Ones that have been unsolved for years… even extending to a century, possibly longer."

"How could that be? Unless, it's a copycat you're dealing with."

"A copycat would be great. But that's not what Seward thinks and I'm beginning, no… _I believe _he's right. There is a reason behind these murders and it could be from the same person or others like him."

"Raoul… are you trying to say a vampire is responsible for the murders?"

"I know how it sounds. I had the same look on your face too, but it's the truth Christine. Seward knows of an expert who can come in and help us track our _monster_—"

"A vampire? C'mon, you know they don't exist. It's probably some lunatic who thinks he is a vampire after watching too many _Dracula _movies."

"Again, I wish that was the case. It would make things a whole lot easier, but how could you explain that when there has been thousands of cases very similar to this? A lunatic cannot be responsible in every situation."

"Raoul, you're tired. I can see it in your face. Maybe you should tell your Captain to take you off—"

"NO!" he shouted, leaping to his feet. "Don't you get it? Don't you understand? This isn't a normal open and close book. There are things out there that we don't know about and most stories have to be based on something that's true. You can think all you want about the nonexistence of vampires, but I'm telling you the truth Christine. There's a vampire lurking the streets of NYC and the bodies are adding up."

"But you said there have been only two…"

"Officially, there are two. This morning a third was found. Like the second one, this victim is completely unidentifiable. But we are using her prints to find out exactly who she is."

"Carlotta's missing," Christine said suddenly. Looking alarmed, she asked, "You don't think…?"

"Hard to say right now. It could be but then again look at the person. How many times has Carlotta done this?"

"Yeah, you're right. But still… it's possible." The last thing Christine would ever wished upon anyone, especially her singing rival, was to be found murdered. Carlotta was a pain in the ass, but she was still a human being and no one deserved to die violently. Not like how these women have been dying.

"I'll call you right away when I find out. But knowing there are three victims… that's too many Christine. You have to be careful when you're out there in the city. You can't trust anyone, let alone talk to anyone you don't know."

"I know how to take care of myself," she snapped.

"Yeah… and I'm sure those women thought the same thing too until they ended up dead. I'm worried Christine. Just because I haven't been able to get in touch with you doesn't mean I don't care. I still have feelings—"

"Raoul," she held out her hand to stop him from saying more. "I know you care. You don't have to tell me. But this isn't the best time. And, besides, I'm… seeing someone."

He blinked. "Y-you are? Who?"

"You don't know him, well… you know someone who knows him, but I like him Raoul. I like him a lot but you know I will always consider you one of my best friends. I don't want to lose that from you."

"Me neither."

She gave him a tiny smile. "We can agree on that at least without argument. But that doesn't mean I've stopped being pissed off at you."

"Duly noted. But this guy you're seeing… you said I sort of know him?"

"He's Joseph Buquet's nephew. Erik Destler. He came from Paris to help take care of his sick uncle."

"Oh…"

She checked her watch. "Look… I really have to get back. I'll see you later…?"

He nodded. "Be safe."

But she was already out the door, leaving him alone once more.

xxXXxx

Christine kept herself busy while she watched Raoul leave. She still couldn't get over the shock of seeing him again after that night. There was so much more she wanted to say, but now… she forgot what most of it was. The only thing that was puzzling was what he told her about those murders.

Three… There are now three bodies.

And she was the only other person to know this, except for those working on the case.

It was strange to have a secret like that from the rest of the world, but she wasn't going to go blabbing it off. No… well, she might tell Meg. Raoul would forgive her for that. And Meg was good as her word to keep it quiet until the police decided to break the news.

But a vampire?

Raoul had to be mistaken. And if anyone else in the department believed that too, then won't they be in for a surprise when it was really a man with a vampire fetish who confused reality with fantasy.

Still… the thought was unsettling.

She loved vampires. She loved reading and watching about them, but she would be the last one to announce she believed in their existence. Bigfoot has a better chance of being discovered than a vampire.

Now… she wanted nothing more than to go back home and see Erik.

True, the last time she saw him was a couple of nights ago after he lost his temper when she kissed him. His actions did frighten her but she couldn't stop thinking about him. Was the kiss offensive to him in some way? Did she go too far in their relationship?

She sort of lied to Raoul, but despite there being no official date, she considered all the times spent together talking, singing, and playing music as dates. She knew she had to talk to Erik about this. She had to know… where did they stand together? Were they a couple? Or were they only friends?

Already she was counting down the minutes until her shift was over and she could go home and see him. She won't take no as an answer.

At last, the time came for her to be done for that evening. As soon as she clocked out, Christine was out running down the sidewalks to Erik's building. She took the stairs to reach the third floor and slowed down once she reached the hallway. Already her heart was racing, her blood wildly drumming through her body, as she took each step closer to his apartment.

There it was.

Taking a deep breath, she raised her fist to knock on the door when it suddenly opened. Standing in the doorway was Erik… his tall frame blocking the entrance. They stared at each other until Christine broke the trance and said:

"Can I come in?"

He seemed to think about it and she was afraid he was going to tell her to go home when he took a side step out of her way. She couldn't begin to describe how happy that made her as she stepped into the apartment.

TBC…

Review please?


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY EVERYONE! I wasn't sure if I was able to make this for today, but luckily I did! Thank you to everyone for following this story! And here we meet our expert, our vampire hunter! I'm certain all of you saw this coming, but be mindful… this Persian is not always going to be likable. After all, he is a vampire hunter and he has his reasons for his actions…

**Chapter 15**

The family business. There was nothing quite like it. Of course, unlike typical family businesses, this one was based on survival. And if you did not like it, then you died a lot quicker.

Nadir Khan took a sip of his brandy and set his hand across the armrest of his chair, staring out to the setting sun. It won't be long now… then the hunt could begin.

Sardonically, with a quirk of his lips, he recalled a time so very long ago when the hunt was something he looked forward to. It was the thrill and excitement of being alone in the night; becoming both prey and predator, while anticipating the coveted prize of all:

A kill…

It was addictive… the high, the rush of overpowering a supernatural being. Of course, the best part… the _fun _part… was the chase; always maintaining the upper hand in cunningness, speed, agility, and precision. It was a dangerous, seductive dance of life and death where anyone could end up the victor… and the other dead. How many times had he come close to the edge? To feel the very faint press of Death's lips against his own? Too often, yet, he always found the way to leave the party alive and eager once more for a new fight.

His father had warned him that cockiness would be his downfall and he would slip. But Nadir didn't pay him any attention. What did the old man know? He hated the hunt, but did it because it was his duty. It was always their duty to protect the living from the undead ever since his great-great-grandfather took it upon himself to rid the world of the evil that lurked in the shadows. His namesake.

It was back then when Nadir was proud of what his family stood for, what they did that went unnoticed by millions. He was young, foolish, and naïve. He thought he was invincible and not a single one of those _damned _creatures could touch him.

Yes, his cockiness did become his downfall.

The drink sent another burning sensation down his throat to block the dreaded memories. He could not think of them right now. He _would not_. His mind had to be clear… well, clear of his emotions. It would not benefit him if he allowed his feelings to control his body. Instead, it was better to be cold and unflinching. To avoid pain, sadness, regret, and… guilt.

Tonight it was only about the job. The kill. Once it was over, then he would move on to another city… another country where another creature would be plaguing the innocent.

And that was his destiny. He would continue this battle until his time ended. Then he would die an honorable death like the previous Khans had before him.

To achieve everlasting peace as his reward and to be reunited with…

_No! _

He took another last swig, this time finishing up the drink, and dropping the glass on the floor. He didn't pay any heed to the broken pieces as he stood and began pacing the small hotel room. It was cheap, musty, and very questionable. However, this lifestyle could not afford any luxuries as the hero never gets paid for vanquishing demons, but it was a moot point. Money was inconsequential and he wasn't materialistic. No person would be after the things he witnessed and done.

Nadir stopped his pace in front of the window once more and looked out. The blood red and orange sky glared back, the clouds a hazy mist. A sign that the battle tonight would be fierce, but Allah was on his side to ensure another victory. He knew this for he foresaw his death. Well, it was either a gift from the heavens or the delusions of an inebriating night; regardless, he was not going to die tonight.

He checked his weapons—holy water, wooden stakes, and a 9mm pistol with thirteen rounds of silver bullets. He pulled his crucifix from under his shirt and kissed the tip, softly whispering a prayer.

He threw on his coat and looked out into the cool night air.

It was time.

xxXXxx

"_Papa? Tell me the story again."_

"_Aren't you tired of hearing it?"_

"_No."_

"_Once upon a time in the magical world of Persia, there lived a brave man who fought on the side of justice. He was a daroga for the Shah and accidentally discovered the proof that the vampire existed. He was able to destroy the creature with a powerful thrust of a stake through the heart. But to be sure that the monster could not come back, he removed the head and presented it to the Shah to warn him of the bloodthirsty fiend. The Shah anointed him as the Protector of the People, fighting the vampires in secret so the kingdom would be safe. It was a sacred duty that would be carried on through his future generations."_

"_But then he left Persia."_

"_Yes. He had no choice for a man's life was at stake and the Shah was corrupted. Although it grieved him to leave his homeland, he knew he could not give up his promise to Allah. So he continued his fight to his dying breath. But before he could leave, he warned his son… your great-grandfather of the most powerful vampire he encountered. An old friend, one he could not bring himself to kill. It was our duty not only to seek and destroy other vampires, but to make sure this one would find peace as well."_

"_Because he was a friend?"_

"_I believe so."_

"_Papa, why can't we tell people the truth?"_

"_Because, my son, this is our burden to carry. And it will be your son's and your son's son. From one generation to the next."_

"_Well, I'm going to be a great Protector. And I will find great-great-grandfather's friend and—"_

"_Not too fast Nadir. Do not seek unless you end up finding what you don't want to find. There's a reason why he's been elusive in the past and who knows? He could already be dead."_

"_I don't think so."_

"_My son… you have so much to learn. I wish you didn't know."_

xxXXxx

_Strigoi. Vrykolakas. Nosferatu. Aswang. Jiang Shi. Vampire._

Every country has its name or version of the undead beings that rose from their graves to stalk the living. The stories were universal, even if the description of what a vampire looked like varied, the common theme remained: they were monsters, unholy creatures.

In a nutshell, they were evil and should be destroyed. It was not natural for the dead to continue to live. Death was death. No one should cheat Fate when it was what it was intended for every living being. Yet, there were those who fought against it. Refusing to believe that mortality should end, many purposely sought ways to continue their lives. And as a result, they would be cursed—slaves to the sun, an unquenchable thirst for blood… the source of life. To be damned for all eternity.

Why one would want such a fate was unfathomable. Of course, there were those who were turned against their wills, but would eventually succumb to the allure of the darkness and forbidden promises the demon whispered.

But to Nadir… they were all the same. Nothing human was left in those poor souls. The first victims were always the loved ones.

So it became his life's work. Obsession was his drive.

But he saw it only as glory.

He ignored the warnings of his father and continued to put his life on the line for the one that could never be found. It angered him that the story of his childhood had a lie in it. His great-great-grandfather did tell his son about _him _but his promise was not to bring it peace. No… the promise was to leave it be.

Why would he say that? Especially when his friend no longer existed, but the demon. Yet, he carried the journals from his ancestor for there was valuable information about the creatures, but the one that included a message to forget this one vampire…

Nadir couldn't do that. It didn't matter that at one point _it_ had been a man and a friend.

It had killed people, slaughtered _innocents_ for their blood. How could he ignore a crime like that?

But it proved to be a wild goose chase where Nadir seemed to catch up. He was a great tracker, but this one was difficult to find. He searched Paris—turning the city and the rumored opera house that was his haunting grounds upside down, but to no avail. Either it knew of him coming or it was simply waiting to make a strike.

There was one time, when Nadir was twenty-five; he believed he came to face-to-face with this foe. All he could remember was a pair of glowing red eyes outside his window while a hellish rainstorm roared. He had scrambled for a weapon to confront it, but it had vanished. Since that day, Nadir knew it knew he was after him.

Like any cunning hunter, it was patient and waiting to make a move.

And it had been Nadir's own stupidity and pride that made the target easy.

There was no proof that it had been it, but he strongly suspected who the culprit truly was. Who else would do such a thing unless itknew that Nadir was too close? It had been a warning, but to Nadir, it was a price he paid and he only had himself to blame.

The chance to fix a wrong from so many years ago instantly became vengeance, but now as a man way past his prime… vengeance was the only fuel willing to conjure his heart.

He was old… not in the physical sense, but mentally and emotionally… he felt years older than his fifty-four years. However, the one thing that shamed him and was held over his head was the lack of a successor. He was running out of time.

Perhaps, his name was truly a curse after all.

xxXXxx

Tonight he was after a newborn. Or rather a fledgling.

Out of any vampire, the fledglings were the ones to watch out for. While they had not fully developed their skills, fledglings were driven by the thirst and that made them a formidable foe to take down.

They were impulsive, irrational, but most importantly, hungry. All they lived and breathed was blood, the lust too much for them to comprehend.

And they always left behind breadcrumbs.

It didn't take long for Nadir to track it and when he came upon the creature in the middle of a feed… he was startled to find the culprit.

A child…

It had to be no older than ten and he could see it was a child of the streets. The clothes were torn and ragged, barely hanging on the thin body; hair was matted and greasy, and its feet was bare. Dirt and blood were caked over the face, the feet, and hands.

And what it held was another child… a little girl by the looks… who was already dead, but the creature continued to suck and guzzle the remaining fluids.

It was too much focused on the meal that it didn't realize Nadir was nearby. He had a clear shot as he slowly removed the pistol from his pocket.

_Blood… oh god there was so much blood!_

_The cold, lifeless eyes gazing off into the distance, limbs sprawled out in an attempt to escape…_

_While one was thrown over as a desperate shield to protect from the beast…_

He squeezed his eyes and opened them once more to find the creature staring right back at him. The blood-stained mouth was pulled into a frightening grin—tiny, sharp teeth gleaming from the moonlight; the eyes glowing red with the possibility of more blood; the demon's face reflected back in the child.

Letting out a hiss, the creature jumped

And came down with two shots—one in the head, one in the heart.

Nice, clean, and precise.

Nadir emerged from the shadows to look down at the kill. The threat was gone. It was over.

He muttered a prayer to Allah for the boy's spirit. May he find rest at last from the torment the demon put him through.

Now, the final step to make sure the demon did not rise again from the boy or the girl. He took both bodies to a desolate, open area. He took out the canister of gasoline from the trunk of his car and doused them before lighting a match and dropping it on them.

He stepped back and watched as the flames devoured the bodies, cleansing them once and for all. He stayed until the fire died out until there was little left of the remains. Then he pulled out a shovel and buried the evidence.

Once again hiding the truth from the world with one less monster to fear.

The drive back to the hotel was a wearied one. As soon as he entered his room, he took a shower to wash the blood, dirt, and ash off. But a little bit of each remained within him as he collapsed on the bed to fall into a dreamless stupor.

xxXXxx

It was near noon when Nadir woke. His body winced and groaned in pain, and he did the best to fight it off.

He was done here. Time to go.

His meager belongings were packed within minutes and as he was checking out, he was handed a message from the night before.

Curious and wary of whom found him, Nadir saw the number was from America… and below was a short missive that instantly grabbed his attention:

_Thomas Seward from NYPD_

_I believe we are in a dire need of your special services and expertise. Please come quickly as the matter is urgent. _

It was time for yet another battle.

TBC…


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: Sorry guys for missing my weekly update. With working three jobs and filling out applications… there wasn't enough time in the world for me to get what I wanted done. I'm looking to teach at schools out of state since there is literally nothing open in Michigan. At least not with my certifications. I guess with all the talks of wanting to improve reading and writing skills there's nothing available for an English teacher. Think on that one Snyder! Sorry… when it comes to politics it is a touchy subject with me and I can get carried away, lol. Good news is that school is done in a couple of weeks so that's one less job to worry about. So more time for writing and updating! And this will make up for the wait! Don't forget to review please!

Warning—very, very dark Erik!

**Chapter 16**

_Knock, knock._

Christine opened the door as Meg pushed her way in. "What's that for?" she asked as Meg dumped the box she was carrying on the floor in the living room.

"Wedding favors and the likes. Figured why not kill two birds with one stone and do this and talk bachelorette party." She panted and brushed back a blonde strand.

"You seriously want one?" Christine asked.

Meg rolled her eyes. "Duh. This is my last chance to let loose my wild, single side before I become the old ball and chain. I'm thinking strippers…"

Christine giggled and bent down to look through the items in the box. "And what does Artie have to say?"

Meg shrugged. "I don't give a damn. I've been dreaming about this since I was a girl. I want my male strippers!"

"You're an odd one Meg Giry," Christine teased. "Strippers you want, fine. But I'm not touching any of them."

"Why not?" her friend whined, sitting cross-legged. "You have to! It's my bachelorette party and I'm the bride so you have to do as I say. Besides, you just might meet the lust of your life and you're going to want to take a nibble."

"Move over Prince Charming," Christine said, grinning widely. "So how do you want to divide these favors?"

"Changing the topic to the wedding… very good move, my friend, but this is not done," Meg warned her, wagging a finger, which the brunette snorted an "okay mother." The blonde pulled out cellophane bags and three jumbo-sized bags of candy. "I was thinking of filling each bag with our favorite candy and adding this." She dug back in the box and pulled out another box. She opened the top to reveal small, brightly colored polished stones. "I figured it was something different."

Christine picked one up to examine it. "That's so cute! It has your and Artie's names and the date!"

"And the final touch!" Meg grabbed a couple rolls of ribbons. "We tie each one up in either my favorite color or Artie's."

"Well, let's get to it."

The friends spent the next several hours making up the hundred and twenty favors. When it came to dinnertime, they ordered a pizza. Christine set the box on top of her coffee table and lifted the top to inhale the heavenly cheese and pepperoni aroma.

"You know this is not good for me," Meg said.

"Yeah, but you suggested it."

"I'm not knocking it. I'm saying it's not good for me, but I'm not going to starve myself to fit into my dress." Meg took the largest slice she could find.

While they ate, Meg broke the silence on the one question she had been dying to ask. "So… did you give any more thought on who you were bringing? Maybe that mystery man?"

"I hadn't had a chance to ask yet, but I'm sure he'll come." _At least I hope so._

"But I will meet him before the wedding." Off of Christine's look, Meg narrowed her eyes. "You were planning on introducing me to him, right?"

"Well… the thing is… he's not big with meeting new people and—"

She waved her hand. "Phooey. We're practically family and I have to make sure he's the real deal and his intentions are honorable and blah blah blah."

"Doesn't that apply to brothers?"

"Whatever. I have to approve him first. It's only fair since you approved Artie and I approved Raoul. Although, that had been a bad choice on my part. You did never tell me his name."

"Erik," Christine gushed. "Erik Destler."

"Wait a minute… is this Joseph Buquet's nephew you told me about earlier?"

"The one and the same."

"Ah, so you fell in love with the could-be-stalker. That's a great romance in the making."

"It's not like that… okay, maybe a little. But he's really sweet and talented. He's a musician and he composes his own music… plus he can sing!"

"Sounds like a winner."

"Yes and it's so not a rebound."

Meg smiled and patted her hand. "I knew it wouldn't."

"Ha ha. Anyways, he's different. Not at all like Raoul and he gets me. He really gets me. I never met anyone who could be in touch with the same things like me."

"Wonderful, isn't it?" Meg looked over to the window. "Hey… there he is."

Christine looked and there was Erik walking over to his piano. The singer turned to her friend, her eyes lighting up. "You're going to listen to him play. Let me tell you… he becomes the music."

"I have to check this out."

The girls ran over to the window, opening it as Erik began a sonata. It didn't take long for Meg to become enchanted with the powerful spell he wove with each note. When it came to an end, Meg was cheering and whistling loudly. That caught Erik's attention, and to Christine's mortification, the blonde was hanging half out of the window and yelling for him to come out.

"MEG!" Christine exclaimed, trying to pull her back in. "What the Hell are you doing?"

"What does it look? I'm going to introduce myself since you're not going to do it. Hello there!"

Amused, Erik looked from the unabashed blonde to the reddened angel next to her. "Hello."

"I'm Meg Giry, Christine's best friend and sister. And you must be the oh so talented Erik that she's been crushing on."

"Meg!" Christine hissed, her cheeks scorching.

"C'mon. We're all adults and I think with all the time you spent together, I think he knows your secret's out."

"Ah, Miss Giry. Christine has told me a lot about you." Erik bowed his head, all the while keeping an eye on his songbird. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last."

"Same here." Meg grinned and turned to her friend. "See? It's a pleasure to meet me."

"Forgive her," Christine said, butting in. "She doesn't come with an off switch."

Meg punched her and turned back to Erik. "Why don't you come over? We're finishing up the favors for my wedding and I would love to get another man's opinion on some thing."

"Oh, I don't know if Erik—" Christine started, but Erik chuckled, interjecting, "Thank you but it will depend on Christine. I do not want to intrude on your time together."

"Of course not! Christine, tell him he would not be intruding," Meg said.

The girl in question looked over to him. Eventually, she knew the two would have to meet and she would love nothing more for them to befriend each other, but she was selfish. She wanted Erik all to herself for a while longer, but like Meg had implied…the cat was out of the bag. And this could be the time to ask Erik if he wanted to come to the wedding with her…

"You can come over Erik," she said softly, a smile blossoming. Meg let out a whoop of victory while a strange look came over Erik's façade. It had to be the night playing tricks with her, but she could have sworn there was a quick change in his expression… But it was only Erik staring back at her with his mask and she shook her head, knowing she was being silly.

Erik didn't hesitate as he leaped over the bars to land on her balcony. This acrobatic move silenced Meg as her eyes widened in shock. Yeah… it was the same look Christine had whenever she witnessed one of Erik's agile abilities. The women stepped back as Erik crawled through the window and then stood to his full height.

"Mademoiselle," he purred, lifting Meg's hand to gently press a kiss to her knuckles.

"He's certainly a charmer," Meg said out of the corner of her mouth, feeling a little breathless. "You're French."

"So I have been told," Erik said, smirking, and let her hand go.

"My ancestors were from France. Wow, we could be family!" Meg said. "Wouldn't that be a small world?"

"Indeed." But he wasn't looking at her anymore. Instead, his focus was on Christine who was looking right back at him with an adoring gaze. _She is so smitten. Well, he may be on the eccentric side with the mask, but he's an improvement from Raoul_, Meg thought.

Knowing she was now the third wheel, Meg decided to take her leave. "It was nice meeting you Erik," she said, shaking his hand once more and blushing. "I'll see you later Christine."

"Okay Meg. Be careful on the way home."

The blonde hoisted the box and shot her a grin. "I'm packed with mace just in case. This girl is not going down until she walks down the aisle!"

Christine laughed and showed her out the door. As much as she loved spending time with her friend, she was anxious to be alone with Erik again. Now that they were, she realized this was his first time in her apartment. And like any girl who wanted to keep impressing her boyfriend, she knew her quaint home was nothing like Erik's.

His was so refined, lavish, and superior… while hers was so common. She couldn't afford the brand names he had and their taste in color schemes were on opposite sides of spectrum, although she was becoming fond of his dark tastes. Yet, her apartment felt so inadequate and she hoped he wouldn't change his mind about her. It was an outrageous thought that he would based their relationship on the décor of an apartment, but a part of her wanted him to like where she lived so they could spend time together here too.

"Welcome to my humble abode," she said sheepishly, brushing her hair behind her ear.

It wasn't his ideal place, but it was Christine's and he liked how it seemed to reflect her personality. There was an earthy… cozy feel to the light brown sofa and matching armchair; with the cream-colored carpet, and maple wood coffee table and end tables. The walls were painted an eggshell color with wooden paneling at the bottom. Picture frames were spread out all over the room—photos of Christine, Meg, other friends, Van Helsing, and… He walked over to the bookcase where there was a large frame of an older couple. They both had their heads lightly touching against the other, a big smile shining on their faces.

"My parents," Christine said, coming up from behind. "That was taken before they died."

"I'm sorry." And he really was.

She shrugged, casting a saddened gaze. "It happens but not a day goes by without me thinking about them. They encouraged my voice, you know. My dad would tell me that I would one day become the soprano of the century. I would love to get recognition, but I think saying 'of the century' might be over doing it a little."

"I don't think so. Your father could be right. You have a voice that could rival any other."

She blushed. "Now, you're being biased too. But I appreciate the sentiments all the same. Of course, with the rate I'm going, I doubt I would ever get to the stage."

"You will. I will make sure of it." There was a glint in his voice that made the promise sound more like a factual statement. Christine brushed it off and moved to sit down on the couch.

Erik continued his perusal of her personal belongings until he stopped at her DVD collection. She noticed his riveted attention on one particular genre.

"I bet you probably didn't think I be into horror, right?" she asked, making it into a joke. "It's okay. Most people wouldn't believe it. They say I don't seem the type."

"I didn't realize you had to be a type."

"Neither did I but there you go."

He had to admit it wasn't something he would associate with his angel. She seemed so pure, so sweet… that she also possessed a dark side intrigued and excited him. Even the demon seemed to be pleased at the thought. Perhaps, it was seeing Christine the same way he did…

"Yeah, the gorier the better. Of course, it's typically unrealistic, over exaggerated, and on the tad side of ridiculous, but it's for a good laugh."

"I'll take your word… I see you like vampires too."

At this, she chuckled uneasily. "Yeah… they're my favorite. I guess it's obvious since I named my cat Van Helsing."

"So you did. What do you think?"

She blinked. "What?"

Erik waved his hand to her collection. "Vampires. I admit my curiosity is piqued that you should be interested in the blood-thirsty undead."

"I don't know… I always had a thing for them even when I was younger." She stood up to walk over to him. "I suppose it has to do with the fact that they represent the sensual and dark side of all humans. We all hunger for something; whether it is beauty, intelligence, love, revenge… and we would do anything to have it. The vampires can be seen as victim and villain depending on how they are portrayed. But it does boil down to it that they are misunderstood like any other person." She noticed his rigid stance and decided to ask him the same. "Do you like vampires Erik?"

"I pity them," was his curt answer. "You see them as figuratively while I see what they really are. Cursed beings to roam the earth without knowing peace, but always hungry for the life surrounding them."

Christine frowned. "I never thought it like that before. In that case, you might like _Twilight_ since most of them see it as a curse."

"What?"

She bit back a laugh. "Then again, maybe not. It is more on the romantic side."

Erik made a humph sound. "That's the other thing. Romantic. How could it be romantic when they feed on blood? To have that uncontrolled and insatiable need to destroy and knowing how easy it could be lose oneself?"

"It's a risk, yes, but you're forgetting the bigger picture here: they don't exist," Christine said.

"No," he replied. "But that doesn't mean that an evil like that doesn't."

She didn't know what to say to that, but intertwined her hand with his and gave it a little squeeze. The intimate touch caused him to exhale sharply, not used to the innocent sensation. How could she touch him so willingly when he knew he was always on the edge in her presence? Of course, she did not know about the battle within him, but he was risking everything by continually seeking her out. And she with him.

"Oh Christine," he said on a sigh. "How can you forgive me so?"

"Forgive you?" she repeated and shook her head. "Erik, we talked about this. I told you it's all right."

"I know but it still doesn't excuse my behavior for scaring you so. You must know that the last thing I want to do is frightened you." He gripped her hand tighter, desperation laced in his beautiful voice.

Christine smiled and gently cupped his unmasked cheek. "I will admit I was a little scared, but it was your reaction. I thought you were mad that I was being too forward or something. The last thing I wanted to do was a cross a line and make you uncomfortable. We are still getting to know each other and we have a lot to learn, but I do like you Erik. A lot. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. Besides… I didn't want you to think I'm the kind of girl who throws herself at other men, especially since I just got out of a relationship. Because I'm _not_."

He couldn't help but grin at her adamancy. "Believe me. That was the furthest thing from my mind."

"Good. Now for the last and final time, let's put that incident behind us. But I will warn you, if you thought you were scary, then you should see me. I'm downright _terrifying_."

That earned her another laugh and she was happy that she could distract him. "Hey, I am," she pouted. "Just ask Meg. I can do a great Samara impression."

"I have no doubt, my dear," he said, although he clearly didn't know what she was talking about. But he had to assume it was something scary.

"One of these days I will get you when you at least expect it." She promised, her blue eyes twinkling with mirth. "Now, would you like anything? A slice of pizza, tea?"

"No thank you. I ate not too long ago."

"Okay. Then how about a movie? We can change things up a bit."

"An excellent idea. It'll give me good reason to hold you."

She snorted. "Warning: I'm not like other girls. I'm the Queen of Horror, obviously. I don't scare."

No, she wasn't and didn't as she was still here with him. She was truly an angel. He knew he did not deserve her, a monster like him, but she made him forget… Basking in her light and attention and voice, he could pretend he was a man. An ordinary, normal man without the demon harboring close by. To her, he was only Erik.

Not even his mask seemed to bother her, but she did question once about it and dropped the matter. All she asked was it comfortable for him to wear it all the time and that was it. She never once asked to see underneath it or question his motives for it. She was a smart woman and he knew she probably assumed it was defect of some kind. Yet, she didn't make it into a big deal. She saw through the plaster and saw only him.

Her acceptance was too much and had she been around when he was human… God knows he would be falling to her feet, weeping for joy. No… his face didn't matter to her. But there was another, completely different matter that he was wary and cautious. His face may not be an issue, but there was the demon. She can boast all she wanted about not being frightened, but the truth was, she would be if she knew exactly what he was.

Lately, Erik was experiencing a debate on whether or not if he should reveal the truth. Of course, that in itself was a dangerous undertaking. He not only deceived her, but she would realize he was the one responsible for the murders that were taking place. She had too good of a heart, so pure, to ever love a murderer, even if it was out of necessity. He feared she would not see it that way, but then again, did she not express that she liked vampires? However, the bitter cynical side of him commented, _her vampires _were nothing like him. They were flawed but they could be redeemed… Erik could never be redeemed.

And if she did accept him as what he is, then he couldn't lose her. Either scenario, even if she was fearful of him, he couldn't let her go. She was too precious and there would never be another like her. After all these years, he found his muse and his music. He would simply go mad if she left him. No… she was _his_. There was a reason why they found each other and Erik refused to believe it was anything but fate. And he would do anything to keep her by his side forever. He would change her if he had to…

_Do it. Take her, claim her. It'll be so easy, so quick… she won't even know she's dead…_

The demon was eager to agree with that assumption and her blood was singing to him…

Erik closed his eyes, forcing the demon to retreat. Could he damn her? Could he take away her soul?

The answer was… yes he could. Not right now… not tonight. But in time… if he should fear that she would leave, then he would take her. She might hate him, but he would have eternity to prove himself, and the demon in her would recognize him as her mate and master. She would have no choice but to remain at his side.

"Erik?" Her soft voice interrupted his thoughts. "Was there a particular movie you wanted to watch?"

"No. You can pick one."

He didn't know what she picked but as the credits started, he turned to her. "Christine, may I kiss you?"

His question surprised her and she looked at him. "You don't have to ask for my permission Erik. We're a couple. You can kiss me whenever you like."

She would never understand his need to have her consent, but it was an echo of his insecurity of his past self, and he had to know.

Christine tilted her face, her lashes fluttering closed, and he caressed her lips with his own… softly, then a little firmer. He was prepared this time, being the instigator, and he kept control over the kiss, making sure last time didn't happen again.

She moaned, his teasing bugging her when she really wanted to taste him. Her tongue was pleading for entrance, but he denied her as he maintained the steady pace. When he drew back to allow her some air, Christine was panting, her eyelids drooping.

"Wow…" She leaned forward another kiss, which he allowed and this time, feeling a little more confident, his tongue danced with hers, tasting and teasing. Her hand, which was cradling his face, began to slip and slide down his chest to his thigh where she rested her palm. She itched to touch more, but she knew she had to take it slowly with him. On the other hand, she let out another moan; Erik seemed to doing all right when his hand cupped her breast. He gently massaged her, his fingers delicately squeezing and teasing her nipple. She shuddered in his grasp, wanting to feel those fingers on her bare skin, but she started to whimper as his mouth left hers to press tantalizing kisses down her neck.

Her jaw dropped as she panted for more… and then the cool air slapped her.

Erik pulled away, his eyes darkening, and his chest was heaving as fast as hers. She wanted to ask him why he stopped, but he was moving away from her.

"It's late. I should go and you need to rest. You are performing tomorrow night, aren't you?"

"Yes… but—"

"Good night Christine."

He was out the window and gone. Her brow narrowed and she found herself glaring at the other apartment. He had to stop doing that! Feeling frustrated and hot, Christine knew he was right, but that didn't mean he had to leave her in a state of wanting. She growled and stormed off to her room, almost stepping on Van Helsing. He hissed but she ignored him. She quickly stripped and got into her pajamas and marched to the bathroom to take care of her nightly rituals. By the time she finished, her temper cooled off and she was beginning to feel sleepy.

Damn him for being right.

She climbed into bed and promptly passed out.

xxXXxx

Hours later, Erik stood over her bed, now that he was able to travel freely in his angel's home without a barrier. Silly girl… if she only knew what she really invited inside, but then again, he wasn't suppose to exist.

He watched over her, taking in every movement of her chest as the breathe rose and fell… a tiny snore escaping those luscious lips… She would make a lovely creature of the night, he decided. As beautiful as she was now, he knew that Death's kiss would only enhance that beauty, making her completely stunning and intoxicating.

His fangs were out, his gaze fixated on her pulse-point. One taste… his blood… death… She could be his in minutes and he would never have to be alone.

The demon roared for him to move, to take. The voices drowning out all sense and reason and as he dipped closer he could smell that pleasant aroma of her unique scent—lavender and vanilla… He could practically savor the moment as she continued to sleep, blissfully unaware that a monster was hovering over her.

It was that thought that caused him to move away, the fangs retracting.

No…

He couldn't do it.

_Coward. You say you want her, but when you can make her yours, you back away!_

He had to leave the room now. With a flick of his cape, he disappeared back into the night air. The demon was berating him for his lack of obedience, but he knew how to get it to shut up for now.

Returning to the apartment, he stalked to the back room where Buquet kept watch. As soon as he saw his Master, he lowered himself into a gesture of supplication.

"I've done as you asked Master," he said, gleefully. "She hasn't made a sound at all."

"Very good," Erik said. "Leave now and do not come into this room until I am done. Is that clear?"

"Oh yes Master!" Buquet pushed himself up and moved away. Erik didn't bother to look to see where he was going and with a flick of his wrist, the door opened.

He stepped into the dark room, sealing the door behind him. His sharp eyes surveyed the quivering woman, huddled in the corner. Her hands and feet were tied, a gag in her mouth. He had contemplated on whether to blindfold her or not, but seeing the terror in her eyes was much better. He rather have her see who she was dealing with and not her imagination.

Sometimes reality can be too delicious.

Carlotta began to shake her head from side to side, tears spilling over as she choked on the gag, when a tall figure began moving towards her. She knew who it was… the man who kidnapped her… She couldn't forget the face.

He moved to the side and flicked on a small lamp, which casted a dim light that made it easier for her to see her captor better. Whatever he was going to do, he wanted to make sure Carlotta knew what was happening.

He walked to her and kneeled in front of her, his hand shot out to grip her chin. She squirmed to get away, but he pinched her harder, forcing her to stop struggling.

"Look at me," he beckoned, those hard eyes glittering in the dark. "You are not happy to see me? I thought you would give me some little greeting."

Her voice was muffled and he barked out a laugh. "That's the spirit! I was afraid you would not like my hospitality, but I must admit that it's been some time since I kept company. Then again… I wasn't much for entertaining. But you certainly followed me willingly."

Carlotta twisted again, screaming through her bonds. He continued to laugh that hideous sound and she wanted him to stop, stop, stop, stop!

He jerked her hair upward, her scalp burning in pain, as she let out another shriek.

"What did you say? You wanted to see behind the mask again? You know what they say, my dear, ask and you shall receive!" With that remark, he whipped the mask off and Carlotta closed her eyes to block the image out of her head. It was too terrible, too horrific…

"I said, LOOK AT ME!" he roared, twisting her scalp again.

She opened her eyes and this time she couldn't look away.

"That's better," he said, cooing mockingly. "It's rude not to look someone in the eyes when they are speaking, but then again, I noticed you don't have many manners. Pity really. Seems most people today do not bother to follow proper decency, but who am I to preach when I was shunned from humanity? Oh yes, my dear, I was an outcast, exiled to the shadows because of my face. But I'm sure you find me handsome, don't you? People were jealous of my looks that was why I had to hide away. But they don't realize I get the last laugh and I take great pleasure in watching them scream as they see there is no escape from this monster."

Her eyes widened and he tilted his head to regard her. "I bet you're starting to know who I am. Those women… someone inhuman had to do that. And you're right. But don't fret. You don't deserve that kind of fate. Oh no… I have something better in mind for you. It's perfect really. Like I said at our first meeting, I know you. You were the one who tried sabotaging Christine's chances of rising to the stars. I know what you did to make sure no one had the opportunity to hear her and that was your biggest mistake. Actions always have their consequences and think of me as your punisher for your sins."

He let go of her head and Carlotta fell to the ground, weeping and sobbing. "Now you're sorry," he continued. "They always are when it's too late. But let me assure you, you will not interfere with Christine Daaé ever again. You will stand by and watch her take what is rightfully hers because you know it's the truth."

She watched in mortification as his face began to transform. The half face of a man and monster became a full demon as those eyes burned with hellfire.

"You will do my bidding," he told her and sank his fangs into his arm. He held out the bleeding arm and ripped the gag out of her mouth, forcing his arm into her mouth before she could start screaming again.

Yes… the demon was very pleased right now.

TBC…


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: I want to give a special thanks to Echo's Lullaby and for PhantomFan01 for sticking with the story and reviewing! You guys rock! So before I have to go in and slave all day at Macy's, I want to get this chapter posted. Sorry there's no Erik in this one, but we do have another body to investigate! Don't forget to review!

**Chapter 17**

"Number four."

Raoul approached Seward as he looked over the man's shoulder to see the body. A wave of queasiness came over him and he had to suppress the urge to vomit, but to do so, he had to look away.

Like the previous victims, she was drained but suffered the worst bodily trauma. Lucy Hale was nothing compared to this. She was partially nude, her upper torso was bare with one breast torn apart, the other lying beside her. Her neck and shoulders were ravaged with bites and scratches.

Seward watched Raoul carefully as the younger man put his head between his legs, sucking in deep breaths of air. When he felt his stomach settle, Raoul stood up.

"This is not good."

"No," Seward agreed. "Harker isn't going to be happy, but luck is on our side. We can keep this a secret, which is why I called you to come here."

"How?"

"I found her," came the stiff reply. "I didn't call it in either. I know it's going against protocol, but I thought it would be best. We will have to get the body to my lab without anyone knowing. I will notify Harker, but we can't let the news out that we have a fourth victim and it's getting worse."

Raoul didn't like the idea. If they were caught, then it was serious trouble, but the scientist had a point. "You're taking a risk in thinking I would agree."

"I know," Seward said gravely. "But who else can I call?" Another good point. Raoul sighed. "All right. Did you ever hear back from that so-called expert?"

"No. But I'm optimistic that he will come."

Raoul doubted it, but did not voice it. Instead, he asked him about the discovery. "How did you stumble on this?"

"I saw a figure dart out of here. It was pure instinct and I was risking my hide by running into it and here we go."

"Did you see—?"

Seward shook his head. "No. Too dark. And he was too fast for an old man like me to catch up."

"It's him." At that, both Raoul and Seward turned their heads to see they were joined by another person in the alley.

"Who's there?" Raoul demanded, keeping his hand on his weapon in case their killer came back. "Who are you?"

"Please put down your weapon. Then I'll talk." He spoke with an accent, which sounded like it was Middle Eastern. When the man stepped closer, Raoul could see he was correct in the man's origins. He had a dark olive complexion; short, pepper-gray hair, and light brown eyes. He looked to be about in his mid to late fifties and he looked like he was dressed for the night out in a cleanly pressed suit. The man waited for Raoul to move his hand before he spoke. "I'm the one you called about these murders. And I see I came just in the nick of time too."

"You call this in the nick of time?" Raoul questioned. Seward moved forward to shake the man's hand.

"Dr. Thomas Seward. Thank you for coming, but I was expecting a message or something."

"Nadir Khan," the man answered and shook Seward's hand. "Yes, well, considering the circumstances. This is not your typical open and close murder case. I came as quickly as possible."

Nadir turned to the younger man and shook his hand likewise. "Raoul de Chagny, the officer in charge of the investigation. So… you're an expert on—"

"The vampire? Indeed I am, although, I don't know if I would say expert. I have hunted these beings all my life as did my father and my father's father. All of the Khan men took part in this duty and it's one that I never wish upon anyone. I'm sorry the two of you have to be involved in this. I know how it looks and it's not easy to accept. Now, could you step aside so I can examine the body?"

"We need to get this body moved before anyone else sees—" Seward began, but Nadir was already kneeling to take a look at the corpse.

"Interesting. He was ravenous I see."

"It's not a joke," Raoul glowered.

Nadir stood and looked at him. "I know. And it was not intended to be funny."

"Is it what I thought?" Seward asked.

Nadir nodded. "You do have a monster on your hands, gentleman. And it is only to get worse."

"Jesus Christ," Raoul muttered. "A fucking vampire."

Nadir let out a chuckle that was filled with irony. "As many would react. But also forgive my tardiness. I have been here for a few days and been doing research. I saw the other bodies and—"

"How the Hell did you see the bodies?" Seward demanded. "Those are under heavy surveillance."

"Yes… well, in my line of business, doctor, I have certain qualifications that allow me to do my job. Now, don't waste my time in arguing over the morality of my actions or I will take my leave. Don't forget, you ask me for your help. I can leave just as easily and you will have to face the never-ending bodies that will come your way."

"Fine. But how in the world do you know this?" Raoul asked.

The foreigner looked at him and replied, "That, my friend, is a long story and one I will share, but first things first… this body needs to be hidden. I have a car where we can stow it. Thankfully, she will not turn."

The three men got the body into Nadir's 2002 Chevy Malibu. "Get inside and I will drive us to a place where we can safely talk."

Raoul and Seward exchanged glances. It was hard to believe that they were already putting so much on the line and now here they were putting their complete faith and trust in a stranger. And that stranger happened to know about vampires and how to stop this one.

He drove them to a shady part of town, away from the lights and people, and pulled up into a questionable motel.

"Wait. First… the body. We need to put her in a safe place—" Seward said.

"Why? She's dead and she's not coming back. No one is going to disturb the car. If it makes you feel better my room has a window that overlooks the parking lot so you can watch over it. Come on. We have very little time as it is."

The man led them to his room on the second floor, and sure enough, he had a large window that did oversee the parking lot. Seward pulled a chair closer to the window to keep watch.

"You fool!" Nadir hissed and quickly closed the curtain.

"But you said—"

"I know and I'm telling you, you are going to bring more attention by sitting by that damn window. I know who our killer is and it will more than likely have spies out to make sure that a meeting like this won't come to pass. Move away."

Seward blanched and did move his chair away so he could not be seen. Raoul chose to stand as he didn't trust the condition the furniture was in, and their expert took a spot on the edge of the bed.

"I told you that my name is Nadir Khan. I have come from a long line of hunters starting with the first Nadir Khan, then daroga of the secret police under the Shah of Persia. He was the first ever to kill one of these creatures and was chosen to be the protector of the living from the undead. It was a sacred duty, a heavy burden that my ancestor under took. Yet, he carried it with his head held high, even when the Shah became corrupted. He still maintained this honor."

"That's great," interrupted Raoul. "I don't see how this relates to what we're experiencing today."

Nadir slowly shook his head. "You, sir, are young and impatient. I'm afraid to admit I was very much like yourself. But I have seen too much blood shed and have my learned my lesson at a very priceless cost. You will do best by heeding my warning and listen to my story. You might find yourself in the same position as I, and trust me, when I say; you will never be the same."

Raoul was going to add more. He didn't have the time to listen to some old story about this man's ancestor, not when they had a killer on the loose. Especially a killer who happened to be a breathing, live—well, not breathing or alive—vampire on the streets of New York City. All he had to go by was based on the movies to stop one, and he was willing to try any of those methods if it meant that the streets were safe once again.

He looked to Seward for backup, but the older man was fascinated by the Persian's story and he wasn't budging. This was not how he expected things to go and he had half a mind to say to Hell with them and call in the body and get away from this room. Yet… Raoul could not move from his spot. He could not tell these men what he really thought and walk out the door. Maybe, just maybe, it was what the Persian said about him being the same as he. There was a cost the man paid and he had said it with such a haunted look in those brown eyes of his. Something happened. His gut told him to stay and to learn from what this man had to share. It could very well prove to be useful.

So… Raoul nodded, capitulating to what Nadir Khan had to say, and at last go over to the empty chair by the desk and sat down. This gave the Persian a grin and he continued:

"The reason I'm telling you this does involve the creature you are looking for. Many years ago, when he was nothing but a man, he befriended my namesake. It was an unlikely friendship and one built out of mutual respect. This man worked for the Shah and his wife as an architect, magician, and later… an entertainer of death. He earned himself the name 'the Angel of Death' and was rumored to have a corpse-like face. Whoever was found guilty of a crime suffered the harshest punishments of all in the torture chamber and would view this man's face before the guilty was killed. The Khanum took a great desire in torturing her people and would do so out of pleasure. However, the man did not like serving her or harming many innocents. When he attempted to save a young girl's life he was arrested for treason and was going to be executed in one of his own creations.

"The daroga could not sit idly and watch another life destroyed by the Khanum's greed. He saved this man's life and smuggled him out of Persia. What happened afterwards is not known, but eventually this man was sighted once more, this time, in Paris. He was supposedly haunting the Opera House under the guise of the Phantom. My ancestor found him and tried to renew their friendship, but the man was hopelessly gone. He was obsessed with an up and coming singer by the name of Christiana Danvers. A beautiful soprano with a promising career. You must understand… this man did not know anything when it came to love, being denied it his entire life. His sense of right from wrong was completely skewed and my grandfather tried to serve as his moral compass.

"As a result, the man severed their friendship. My grandfather feared it would only end badly for him, but he would not listen. It was not until after the Opera House performed the Phantom's opera when the star was brutally murdered alongside her lover. When the news reached my grandfather he was devastated because he knew that his old friend was involved in some way. At first, he could not find him and he almost gave up his search when they crossed paths. It was then my grandfather discovered that his old friend was a part of the undead. He wept that night for the man's soul, knowing it was forever damned. But it did not know of my grandfather's duty. They fought, but neither one killed the other. It was odd especially since the demon has full control, but for whatever reason, my ancestor was spared.

"But that did not stop the hunt. My grandfather realized he could not kill him, not with the past they had shared, demon or no demon. He told this to his son on his deathbed that he had to promise not to go after his friend. However, the following generations could not follow this promise. This creature has committed more sins in ten of our lifetimes. It went on a mad blood craze after murdering Miss Danvers, leaving bodies all over the place. It did not discriminate his victims and many women and children and men died.

"Even though my grandfather didn't want us to chase after it that didn't stop us from trying. No matter what… we could never seem to find it. I was the closest one to have seen. It was years ago and it was watching me. That much I knew. The elusive vampire and I wanted to bring home a trophy. What a legacy to leave if I was the one who hunted and killed this beast. As I said before, I was foolish and my pride blinded me from the real dangers."

"What happened?" Raoul asked, leaning in closer.

"My family," Nadir replied, his voice full of sadness. "You see. I was married and had a boy. No more than four years old. I was on a hunt, and that evening, I had a cold trail to follow. I thought for sure it left the country since there hadn't been any new bodies. I returned to the hotel where they were waiting for me. My wife knew my family's secret and bless her soul… she still loved me, although she feared for me as well. I never gave her a reason to worry that one of the creatures will find her. I had a reputation. I was known as 'The Persian' and the undead never dared to cross me. Until that night."

"Oh God," Seward inhaled as Raoul's eyes widened in quiet astonishment.

"I found them… blood everywhere… there was little left for me to bury," Nadir choked. "It was a warning. _It _knew I was too close. And it only made me all the more determined to track it down once and for all. My grandfather pitied him. But I knew… that man was nothing more than a monster and I vowed to make him pay."

"So… our vampire, you really believe it's the one you're looking for?" the younger man asked.

Nadir nodded. "I know it is. Call it a sixth sense if you will."

"Do you know what he looks like?" Seward piped up.

"Trust me… he is one you cannot ever forget. He has a distinct physical appearance. It wears a mask—"

"A mask?" Raoul interjected, his brow raised in amazement. "Hale's roommate got a text from her saying she met a man who wore a mask. There has to be a connection."

"I would say you are correct," Nadir said, nodding in agreement.

"But there is one thing I'm confused about," the young detective went on. "You said he fell in love with a singer and he murdered her. A soprano?"

"Yes. You may think this is odd of me to have this, but here let me show you." Nadir stood and went over to the suitcase he had in the corner and placed it on top of the bed. He opened it and pulled out a journal—a very old one from what Raoul could see with the yellow pages and fading cover. The Persian opened the book and took out what looked like a newspaper clipping.

"My grandfather's journal has everything there is to know about vampires. This is one of them and this one contains the information I just told you about it. He kept this clipping… for what reason, God only knows, but take a look."

Raoul gingerly took the article and looked down at it. It was written in French but it wasn't the words that attracted his attention… no. It was the picture that caused his blood to chill.

"That's Christiana Danvers. As you can see, she was very lovely when she was alive."

"Christine," Raoul murmured. The woman was his Christine. The same wide, blue eyes, the cute little nose… the only difference was the woman in the photo had blonde hair… he would have to say they could be twins. It was too fucking nuts, but the article seemed to be the real deal with the creases and yellow and brown coloring. No way could it be a fake.

"Pardon?"

Raoul turned it over to show the picture to the men. "This is Christine my… ex."

Nadir lifted his eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean? The girl… Christiana… this is Christine Daaé."

"Allah…" Nadir stood abruptly.

"She said she was seeing someone. Erik I believe she said. Buquet's nephew."

Seward frowned. "Nephew? Buquet doesn't have a nephew."

"You're positive?" Raoul asked Seward. The scientist nodded. "I knew Buquet for years and he never once mentioned having a nephew. I don't think he has any family to be honest."

They both turned to the agitated Persian who was lost in his thoughts. "Mr. Khan?" Raoul asked.

He seemed to remember that they were in the room and snapped out of his reverie. "Gentlemen, I fear this changes everything. You see… I have noticed a pattern among the vampires I have hunted. Typically, a vampire only needs every few days to feed, especially if they fed on someone who was very healthy and has good blood running through them. Sometimes, a couple of weeks at tops. The only instances when a vampire kills and feeds too often are when they are a newborn or if they prefer to swim in their bloodlust. This… this _thing _has had a violent past, but I haven't seen the number of victims like this in a short period of time from it. It is cunning and would not dare to risk exposure of any kind. However… this explains a lot."

"What does?" Raoul demanded, growing perturbed and irritated. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Nadir snatched the article from the young man's hands and waved it in front of him. "Her! Don't you see? You said she looks like her! If it believes she is his dead love… then I believe the reason for all these murders have to do with her. If he's spending time with her… this is the only way the demon can act out on its violent tendencies and urges."

"What are you saying? Is he going to kill her?" Raoul was suddenly frantic with worry.

The Persian shrugged, and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know. I don't think he will. But… with the demon… nothing is predictable. But if what you are saying is right, then she needs to stay away from him. For her life will be in danger every passing second."

TBC…


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Wow… it has been three weeks since I last updated. I'm so sorry guys! I was down with the terrible case of writer's block, work, and I did score an interview, but no call backs. And I am leaving for vacation tomorrow so I'm going to try and write in another chapter this week to post on Sunday. I hope this chapter makes up for the wait!

And again thank you for the wonderful and incredible feedback! I hope I didn't lose anyone with the wait. You guys are awesome and thank you for being patient!

**Chapter 18**

He wanted to believe the man was crazy, but with a fourth body already found… Raoul couldn't ignore it anymore.

The time for denial was over.

There was a vampire patrolling the streets, a bloodthirsty killer who may or may not be mixed up with Christine. And if she was involved with this… this _thing _then her life was in danger.

Their last meeting didn't go over as well as Raoul had hoped. Then again, he didn't sound all that sane either. However, he knew he had to talk to her again. Now that they were able to put a name on the suspect, Raoul had to be certain that Erik was the one they were looking for. And if Christine was dating him… he shuddered at the thought. Then his mind turned to questions that he was afraid to know.

Did she know he was a vampire? Was she aware of the recent murder? Did it matter to her?

Raoul knew Christine, or he counted on that he did, but she wouldn't agree to be with someone who had that much blood on their hands. Yet, the Persian told him everything there was about vampires. The limitations and restrictions that vampires were bound to, including their abilities, especially with mind compulsion.

Could it be possible that Christine was brainwashed?

He left messages for her everywhere—her cell phone, the house phone, text, and email—but not a single word back. He even called Box Five and stopped over there, hoping he might catch her at work. All these attempts were for naught, and Raoul was left with one only alternative.

Meg.

If anyone could get a hold of Christine and make her see reason, then it was her best friend.

So it was no complete shock that Meg was stunned to find Raoul on the steps of her townhouse. He looked worn out and haggard, but there was no hiding the seriousness in his eyes. He was here not for a social call, but police business.

"We need to talk," he said, his tone gruff and hard. "It's about Christine."

"What about Christine?" she asked.

"Have you seen her recently?"

Meg frowned. "Of course. Why?"

"How did she look?" he continued, ignoring her question.

"She grew a second head and has tentacles now instead of arms. Shopping for clothes was a nightmare. What do you think? She's fine. Now, what in the world does that have to do with anything?"

Raoul took in a shaky breath, running his hand through his blonde hair. "Meg… we have known each other for a long time. You know I'm not one to joke around, not when it's something that I'm deeply concerned about. I also know that I may not be your favorite person because of what happened between me and Christine, but this has nothing to do with our relationship. It's about her safety."

Meg didn't break eye contact from him, knowing what he said was true. He was not her favorite person right now and she knew that when it came to the people he cared about… their safety were never a joke. It was what made him a good cop and what she admired most about him. She remembered what Christine told her before about Raoul's wild accusations that a vampire was responsible for the recent murders, and even though she had laughed about it, there was something in his eyes that told her she was making a mistake if she closed the door in his face.

She bit her lower lip. "Artie's not home and will be gone for another couple of hours at the store. Come on in, but I'm warning you, if I feel that this is some way of you trying to get back to Christine through me, I'm kicking you out, am I clear?"

Raoul nodded, a sigh of relief slipping through his lips. "Yes. Thank you Meg."

"Don't thank me yet." She opened the door wider for him to enter. Meg then stepped into the main room and sat down on one of the recliners, while Raoul took a seat opposite from her. His fingers were interlaced with one another and he shifted forward.

"How much has Christine shared with you about the murders?"

"Not much. Only that you think a… well, you know what is the murderer."

Raoul let out a humorless chuckle. "Yeah. I know how it sounds and I wish I had made it up."

"So it's true? You really truly believe a vampire killed those women?"

"Meg, the point remained, we have a killer on our hands. And this one is very dangerous. More so because it involves Christine."

"What?"

"We have a fourth victim now… Lord knows how many there really are. But I did hear some disturbing news a couple of days ago and I have been trying to get a hold of Christine, but she's not returning my messages. I met this man, his name is Nadir Khan. He knows things that I wished I never knew. Told me things I wished I could ignore. He knows how to get rid of this problem and he knows who it is."

Meg's eyes widened in disbelief and shock as Raoul told her what the Persian told him about the man named Erik and the opera singer, Christiana Danvers. As he was concluding the tale, he asked, "Meg… this is important… I need to know. Does Erik wear a mask?"

The blonde nodded without speaking. She licked her lips nervously, trying to make sense of the story Raoul told her and what she knew about the man her best friend was deeply in love with. It couldn't possibly be the same person! Sure, Christine's Erik had an aura that drew you in, but he couldn't be dangerous. He didn't seem like the type… but she recalled the way he looked at her friend: the predatory, possessive glint that just screamed out _MINE_. At first, she mistook it as lust in the newfound relationship, but now she was sure there was more behind that look.

Raoul closed his eyes. "It is him."

Meg finally spoke. "It can't be. What a coincidence if that was the case. There has to be another Erik out there who wears a mask."

"Meg," Raoul said. "Listen to yourself. Do you honestly believe that?"

She sighed. "No. I guess not. It's just… I can't believe that it could be the same person. And are you certain Christine looks just like this Christiana?"

"Yes. If Christine dyed her hair to your color… they would be identical."

"Christine did say he suffered from a broken heart. Do you think he only loves her because of who she looks like?"

"Meg, he's a _vampire_! He can't love her."

"I don't know. I've seen how they were around each other."

That caught his attention. "Y-you seen? You met him?"

"Well… I…." the blonde stammered. "The first time was just a look. It was before you and Christine broke up. Then the second was when I got Christine to invite him to come over so I could meet him. Oh God! She invited him! Aren't vampires only allowed in if there's an invitation?"

"Yes, but she could have invited him before you—"

"No, no! She's been going over to his apartment to sing and play music. Oh God this is my fault! If I hadn't been so gun-ho on meeting the guy, then she wouldn't have invited him into the apartment, and that would be putting her more at risk, right?"

"Meg, calm down!" Raoul ordered, jumping up to push her back down in her seat. "Look, you don't know that. So far… from what I was told, I doubt he will hurt her. But who knows how long that will last? Now, what else do you know?"

"That's it. I didn't stay long after that. But you are certain? You are absolutely positive that Erik is a vampire? This is not some stupid jealous plot to get Christine back?"

"I wish it were Meg. I wish I was making all this up."

Meg looked down at her feet. "Shit…"

He chuckled. "Yeah. That's what I keep telling myself."

"But… do you think there's a possibility that we are jumping to conclusions? That we're taking some stranger's word that vampires exist and Christine's new boyfriend happens to be one?"

For the longest time, Raoul didn't reply. Then, he took a deep breath. "The odds are very slim at this point if I'm wrong. I can't ignore the facts or the evidence. I have already dedicated too much into this case and even though I hate what's happening… I can't turn my back on it. Before, it was only a murder case with a potential vampire. Now it has branched out into some twisted romance that Christine is caught in. I wish I am wrong. But my gut is telling me I'm right. That I'm on the right path and I'm so close I can taste it."

"But—but how can you arrest a vampire?"

"I'm afraid this is not going to end in an arrest."

Meg gasped her hand flying to her mouth. "Christine…"

"I know," he said sadly. "But you have to remember—Christine's safety and life is far more important than trying to spare her feelings. She will be upset, but if we catch this demon, then she has a fighting chance in surviving."

"What can I do?" Meg asked her voice quiet.

"Talk to her," he told her. "Tell Christine what I told you. We need to keep her away from him."

"But wouldn't that seem suspicious if Christine suddenly stopped seeing him? He would want answers…"

"Yes but we need to play our cards right. As much as I hate to do this, I know we will only be putting her more in harm's way if we removed her completely from the apartment. And… since he is passing himself off as Buquet's nephew… I can only imagine what happened to the old man. We have to tread delicately. I'm going to use whatever resources I have to monitor Christine and make sure nothing happens. I have to put my faith on the fact that he isn't going to hurt her. Just until I know exactly what we are up against."

"If I tell Christine…"

"Tell her. She will have to play along, but at least, she will know the truth. I know Khan is getting a plan in order. This thing is not someone you can ambush and expect to come out unscathed."

Meg shuddered and stood up. "Okay. I'll tell her right away."

"Thank you Meg."

"This is going to kill her, you know."

"I'm aware of it. And she will hate me. More so than before. But I rather have her hate me than her dead."

He was right. As much as Meg loathed being the one to tell her friend what Raoul discovered, she knew it was the right thing to do. If Christine hated her afterwards, then it was a sacrifice she was willing to make just so her best friend would be alive. The alternative would be devastating, knowing she could have done something, but chose not to. She would never forgive herself.

"Let me show you out." Meg walked him out to the door and watched as he went out into the dark. Her entire insides were knotted, but her resolve was strong. It was late to call Christine, but tomorrow morning… she would tell her first thing.

She sighed once more and closed the door.

Next to the stairs, a figure emerged from his hiding spot behind a thick, tall bush. This new development was not going to sit well with the Master.

TBC…


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Here we go! Just like I promised! Vacation was great and now it's time to go back to the old routine and go to work… all day long… I think the computer that arranges our schedules at work saw I had a nice week off and decided to get its revenge and schedule me an open to close shift at Macy's. Technology does hate me. Lol.

Enough of that… got some great stuff happening in this chapter. Please don't forget to review and thank you to all of my lovelies for the awesome comments!

Disclaimer: I'm borrowing the lyrics for "Can't Hide from Love" from the movie _Fame_. Unfortunately, I couldn't find the actual lyrics on the Internet so I had to use the subtitles from my DVD and there were some parts that wouldn't show so I did my best to listen carefully. So if I made a mistake, then that's my bad, but it is an awesome song and I had to use it.

Also, I do not own the lyrics to "Teeth" by Lady Gaga. I'm only using them for this chapter because this song is soo perfect for this story.

One last reminder… this story is rated M for a reason. Read at your own discretion.

**Chapter 19**

"I quit."

It was the announcement heard around the world. Carlotta Giudicelli was quitting Box Five. Angus hit the roof.

"You're quitting when you have fifteen minutes left to go on stage! Fuck no! You're not quitting!"

"I am and I did!" Carlotta shouted back. "There are other girls who can take over. I'm done Angus. I'm through with Box Five."

"Done! DONE? You're done when I say you're done! And right now I want your ass out on that stage!"

"Not happening Angus. I've decided there are better things I want to do with my life and singing no longer holds my interest."

He gaped at her. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means," she said slowly as if to a confused child. "I rather do something else. Singing bores me."

"B-bores?" he repeated, still unbelieving what he was hearing. "For fuck's sake Carlotta! You had someone from the Met here listening to you! That's all you've been squawking about! Then you walk out on a performance, just when they were willing to make a deal. And here you come back after being gone for four days to say singing bores you now! I arranged the whole fucking deal for you!"

"I know Angus and I was glad you did. But I changed my mind. I'm entitled to do that." With that, she turned her back on him and started to walk out his office.

"Don't you leave this office! CARLOTTA! GET BACK HERE YOU WORTHLESS BITCH!"

Angus was continuing a long string of profanities when Carlotta closed the door. She sent a nasty look to those who were standing around, which they quickly scattered to pretend as if they were doing something else. Satisfied, Carlotta tossed her hair back and continued to walk out the door, even when Angus burst out from his office and began chasing her down.

Immediately, the talking started with the recent excitement. Of course, there were those that were disappointed that Carlotta wasn't the Phantom's victim, but this turn of events proved to be quite delightful and entertaining!

None was more shocked than Christine as she was one of the eavesdroppers that left before Carlotta could see her. She turned to Abby, another singer, and said, "I can't believe Carlotta's quitting."

"Tell me about it," Abby replied, shaking her head. "I thought it was kind of shitty that Angus would arrange an audition for Carlotta and not for you. She's terrible and for the Met to actually want her? I thought they had more class than that."

Christine smiled. "Well, makes you wonder, how much Angus had to bribe them to take her."

Abby laughed. "Okay, now that, I believe! But it still makes you wonder how Angus could do something like that for her, but not for the rest of us. That's not fair."

"No… it's not." Christine agreed. "You know what? I'm going to talk to him. I've been wanting to, but I think this is the right time."

"Whoa, what? Angus is inches away from blowing a casket. I don't think you should approach him."

But Christine was already gone. She knew she was risking a lot in getting in the middle of his temper, but if he knew what was best for him… and that meant not another confrontation, and then he would have to hear her questions.

She found him standing at the back door, his head resting against the cool metal. It startled her since she never seen Angus looked so… so… defeated.

"Angus?" she spoke softly and he groaned. "Don't tell me you want to quit too Christine. Fuck… if I lost another singer… and I mean a good one… I—"

"I'm not quitting but I would like to know why is that Carlotta got an offer and I didn't."

He mumbled something, and then pushed himself up to turn and face her. "You wanna know why? Fine. You're great Christine. Too great. And believe me, when I say, I had a couple of people approach me about you, but I'm a selfish bastard. You're good for this club. You bring people in. Happy?"

She looked at him, speechless. There were people who wanted her? Her! "How could you do that Angus?"

"Why would I? Think about it. I didn't want to lose you. Of course, you probably want to go ahead and sue my ass for this, and I don't blame you, but right now I need a singer and you're my only chance."

"Whoa, wait!" Christine said, glaring at him. "First of all, I'm not going to sue you. Besides the fact that yeah you did lead me on for years and who knows what opportunities I missed out because of you, but I want you to know… I enjoy working here. But good things _do_ come to an end."

He started to grumble, but Christine hushed him, which was the first time she ever did that to her boss. "I'll go out and sing. But then you and I are going to have a long overdue chat. I am going to leave Box Five, but not tonight. Or I will sue you. And you know I have contacts with NYPD."

"Don't remind me," he muttered and sighed. "Go."

Christine couldn't suppress the grin she was trying to hold back. With Angus not in view, her smile was so wide that it almost hurt her face. She was pissed. Royally pissed that Angus had purposely made sure that no one could take her away, but at least she knew the truth. Angus thought she was too good and he recognized that her voice did draw in the crowds. But she knew it won't be long before her dreams finally came true. She would be on the stage! She would perform for her parents… for Erik.

Oh, he would be so pleased to hear the good news!

Tonight, unfortunately, was not Classical Night so the setup was informal. She only had a few minutes left to get ready so Christine was a little tornado and threw on whatever she could find. It was a pair of ripped black jeans, with a beaded silver belt, and a white scoop neck shirt with short sleeves. She didn't have time to do anything with her hair so she left it down. She grabbed her mike to wrap around her ear and ran out on the stage. Luckily, the DJ was playing a song and when he saw her, he wrapped up so he could take his break.

In the meantime, another DJ came out to play the music for her. She tapped her feet in time and then started to sing:

_You can't hide from love_

_Can't hide from love_

_Can't hide from love _

_Can't hide_

_Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide_

_No time for games_

_Time to decide_

_The pressure's on_

_It's got to be right_

_Won't be detoured by foolish pride_

_Gotta work just a little_

_Just a peek for something committal_

_Got to find somewhere in the middle_

_So confusing what I'm feeling… _

_No matter how hard I try_

_You can't run from love _

_You can't push and shove_

'_Cause no matter what_

_Love will always catch you_

_Try your best to stay up_

_But you have nowhere to look_

'_Cause there is no way to hide_

_Love will always catch you_

_You can't run from love_

_You can't push and shove_

'_Cause no matter what _

_Love will always catch you_

As she sang, Christine danced to the beat. Her arms were thrown up in the air, her body swaying. This was one of her favorite songs to sing as the music would take over and let her soar. She shimmied, she twirled, she got down, and the crowd went nuts.

By the time the song was over, sweat was glistening over her face and neck. She could feel the beads of sweat dripping down her shirt, but that didn't stop her from smiling and panting to catch her breath. Sometimes, even a classical singer, loved to get down and dirty with a catchy dance song.

She bowed deep, still breathing hard, but the people were cheering. She rose and pumped her fist, which only drove them crazy. The DJ was calling her name and then another song was starting up. The tempo was slow, but it picked up.

_Don't be scared, I've done this before_

_Show me your teeth_

_Show me your teeth_

_Show me your teeth_

_Don't want no money_

_(Want your money)_

_That shit's ugly_

_Just want your sex_

_(Want your sex)_

_Take a bite of my bad girl meat_

_(Bad girl meat)_

_Take a bite of me_

_(Show me your teeth)_

_Let me see, you're mean_

As soon as she started, Christine felt a presence in the air. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and she looked around and her heart skipped a beat.

Erik!

She could see him in the shadows, his white mask glowing from the strobe lights. He kept himself hidden from the others, but he made sure he was in plain view for her to see.

She locked her eyes with him, her song and dance all for him.

_Got no direction_

_(No direction)_

_I need direction_

_Just got my vamp_

_(Got my vamp)_

_Take a bite of my bad girl meat_

_(Bad girl meat)_

_Take a bite of me, boy_

_(Show me your teeth)_

_The truth is sexy_

The lyrics were provocative and she let it played out. She didn't know what possessed her to act so wantonly on the stage, but seeing Erik brought it out of her. She wanted to drive him wild like he did to her; she wanted to make him yearn for her.

_Tell me something that'll save me  
>I need a man who makes me alright<br>(Man who makes me alright)  
>(Just tell me that it's alright)<br>Tell me something that'll change me  
>I'm gonna love you with my hands tied<em>

She ran her hands all over her body, her hips swaying, and she threw back her head, exposing her pale throat. Christine didn't know how she knew this… but she could feel his burning gaze. She thought back to the passionate kisses they shared… she knew he wanted her. She wanted to make him ache for her more so and she should used every tool in her belt to seduce him—her voice, her body, and her dance.

_Show me your teeth  
>Just tell me when<br>(Show me your teeth)  
>Open your mouth, boy<br>(Show me your teeth)  
>Show me what ya got<br>(Show me your teeth, teeth, teeth, teeth)_

_Got no salvation  
>(No salvation)<br>Got no salvation  
>Got nor religion<br>(No religion)  
>My religion is you<br>_

In her mind's eye, she could imagine Erik running his lips down her throat, his hand just grazing her side, as she stroked his face and chest. Then he would pull her fully against him, rubbing himself against her center.

God! She could see it!

He was tearing her clothes off and she his, desperate to touch the flesh that was hidden. Each taste, each caress was tender but hard and she was spiraling out of control with the sensations coursing through her.

_Take a bite of my bad girl meat  
>(Bad girl meat)<br>Take a bit of me, boy  
>(Show me your teeth)<br>I'm a tough bitch_

_Got my addictions  
>(My addictions)<br>And I love to fix 'em  
>(And I love to fix 'em)<br>No one's perfect_

Yes… she was addicted to him. And she was ready… then when he took her… it was pure bliss to be finally joined.

_Help, need a man now show me your fangs  
>Help, need a man now show me your fangs<br>(My religion is you)  
>Help, need a man now show me your fangs<br>Help, need a man now show me your fangs_

Christine opened her eyes, she didn't realize she closed them so lost in her fantasy, and she saw the molten look that was fixated on her. He was feeling the same. He was on fire, just like she was, and the only way to quench it was each other.

_Show me your teeth  
>(Show me your teeth)<br>(I just need a little guidance)  
>Show me your teeth<br>(Show me your teeth)  
>Show me your teeth<br>(Show me your teeth, teeth, teeth, teeth)_

The song ended and the people were screaming madly. But her attention was not on them. No… it was on the man who she loved and she wanted to tell him she was ready for the next step. If that song didn't get the message across, then she didn't know what would, unless she stripped down in front of him…

Maybe she would do that anyways.

She still had a couple more songs left, but she was anticipating the moment she could run off stage to find him. The other songs were a slower beat and it allowed her body to cool off a little, but her desire for Erik didn't ebb.

When she was done, she ran offstage to drop off her microphone and then she went back out on the floor. She pushed her way to where she saw Erik and when she got there he was gone.

_No! He was right here! Where did he go?_

Christine looked around, but she lost sight of her masked boyfriend. She asked a couple of people if they saw where he went, but no one remembered seeing a man with a white mask. She even asked some guys to go to the bathroom to see if he was there.

But Erik was gone.

Did he not like the show? She knew it wasn't the type of music he liked, but she thought he might have liked her performance.

Christine gave up and headed back to her dressing room to change and go home. She flicked on the light and gasped when she found a bright red rose tied with a silk black ribbon on her dressing room table.

Erik had to have left it!

Feeling giddy, she walked over and noticed there was an envelope underneath the rose. She picked it up and pulled out the paper that was inside. It was short and straight to the point, but it made her knees weak and her legs wobble with anxious anticipation.

_I am waiting for you at home._

The promise spoke volumes; however, it was not fair that her shift wasn't over for another three hours.

"Son of a bitch," she murmured.

xxXXxx

Once she clocked out, Christine was instantly gone. She needed to get home right away because Erik was there and she was already throbbing with need. Her plan of attack was simple. She was going to tackle him and kiss him senseless until he was crying for mercy and she would take her time just to torture him because he so carelessly left the club without saying a word to her.

Who said payback wasn't a bitch?

She ran as fast as she could, and once she was in her apartment, she dropped everything on the floor. Her chest was heaving, and her legs were sore from the dancing and running, but she ignored it as she saw Erik standing outside on her balcony.

His eyes were glowing that golden color in the night, and she shivered. There was a promise in those eyes, dark and dangerous, and she couldn't wait to see what he was going to do.

She walked over to the window and pushed it up. Then, she stepped back as she bid, "Come to me, my Angel of Music."

Like a ghost, he glided in and took her in his arms.

"_Mon ange_," he whispered, and he pulled her closer to him as he bent his lips down to kiss her.

Instantaneously, heat ignited and they were grasping for one another. Erik growled in his throat and he picked her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He moved quickly and she was pressed against her couch. Not once did they break apart as they ravaged one another. When it became too much for Christine, she tore her mouth away as she inhaled loudly. Yet, Erik was relentless on his assault on her person as he nipped and licked down her throat.

She moaned low as his ministrations grew into bites and her nails dug into his shoulders.

"Erik!" she called out, and then she felt a sharp pinch, which caused her to cry out in surprise and she was falling into a black oblivion.

TBC…


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: Thank you everyone! I know all of you were shocked about that last chapter… and let's just say… the next few chapters are going to be CRAZY. Hee hee. For anyone following my other story, _Heaven by the Sea_, I will not be updating that one today. With this terrible heat we have been having and a couple of power outages I was only able to get this one done. I'll have _Heaven _updated next Sunday for sure.

One more side note… I have better been drained of blood so I'm not exactly certain what the symptoms would be (other than death and we're not there yet) or how quickly to heal from it so this is all made up. If it seems too fast, then I'll more than likely will go back and make some changes, but it won't be for some time.

All right enough of me yammering away go ahead and read on!

**Chapter 20**

Something was terribly wrong when Christine woke up.

Her body was weak, lethargic, and she barely made it into the bathroom as nausea overtook her. Her head would not stop spinning as she grasped onto the cold seat of her toilet as she vomited. When nothing else would come out, Christine had to push her shaky legs up and almost collapsed against the sink.

She gripped the counter tightly and looked at herself in the mirror. God, she looked like hell. Her skin was flushed and paler than normal, her eyes had these dark rings under them, and she had to look away as another wave of nausea hit her.

Thankfully, she did not have to throw up. She rinsed her mouth, swallowing the icy cold water, and stumbled back to her room. She grabbed her robe and blanket to wrap up in.

She couldn't understand. She felt fine last night. Then her eyes widened as she remembered…

She and Erik were kissing and just when things were heating up, she became dizzy. She broke apart and her skin was hot, not from the heavy make-out session, but she was sweating… And Erik! Sweet Erik picked her up and carried her to her room where he tucked her into her bed and stayed by her side until she fell asleep.

Christine was sad to see he was gone, but she hoped he didn't catch whatever she all of a sudden contracted. She heated up some tea and had some cereal, feeling a little bit better after she ate. As Christine put her bowl and spoon in the sink she heard knocking.

Maybe it was Erik to see how she was doing!

She brushed through her curls and squeezed her cheeks to bring some color to her face before answering the door. Her expression immediately dropped when it was only Meg.

"Oh hi to you too," Meg said, her brows frowning as she looked at her friend. "You look like Hell. Are you sick?"

"Hey Meg. Yeah but I'm feeling better."

"Uh-huh. Well, I'm making this quick so I won't be contaminated, but there's something I need to tell you."

"Oh… Okay, come in."

Meg stepped in, being mindful not to stand too close to her, which Christine rolled her eyes. "What do you have to tell me?"

"Well… Raoul sent me."

"Raoul?"

"Yeah. He came over the other night and told me about the murders. Christine… he also told me something else."

"If this is about the whole vampire thing, forget it. They don't exist."

Meg sighed. "That can be debated, but he wanted me to tell you to be safe. Take extra precautions and everything and don't trust anyone."

"Okay Mom. Was there anything else Papa Bear wanted you to tell me?"

The blonde shifted her weight and Christine could tell there was more on her friend's mind. "Meg, whatever it is, you can tell me."

"That's the thing… I don't know how to explain it. Hell, I don't know if this has anything to do with all the talk that's been going around or paranoia or both, but I don't want to see you get hurt."

This was serious.

Meg took a deep breath. "Okay, here it is. How well do you know Erik?"

"What?" That was not what Christine was expecting.

"It's just… he wears a mask. No normal person does that unless they're hiding something."

"Meg!" Christine exclaimed in shock. "I can't believe you! Are you implying Erik could be responsible for those women's deaths?"

"Well…"

"Look Meg. I know the mask is odd, but think about it rationally. If Erik was a killer, why in the world would he wear something that would identify him easily? He's eccentric, yes, but that's the only crime he's guilty of. He's been kind to me and his uncle, who by the way needs plenty of help. That is not the marking of a serial killer."

"How many serial killers also turn out to be loving husbands and fathers?" Meg retorted. "Christine, all I'm saying, is that none of this didn't start until Erik showed up."

"Oh come on!" The singer scoffed. "That is nothing but a coincidence and you know it!"

"All right, all right," the other girl said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, but I worry and Erik is new here and—"

"Have you thought that maybe Raoul wanted you to think that because I'm dating Erik?" Christine crossed her arms and gave her a glare. "Clearly, he's still upset about the break-up."

"Sorry Christine. Forget I said anything."

"Already done." Christine reached for the doorknob and twisted it. "Bye Meg."

The blonde shuffled out, but before she left, she turned around to say one more thing. "Christine, does the name Christiana Danvers ring a bell?"

The singer frowned. "No. Why?"

"Nothing. Just curious." And she was gone.

Christine shook her head and closed the door, pressing her forehead against the cool surface. Van Helsing sidled over and brushed his head against her leg. She looked down and scooped him up. Scratching behind his ear, Christine walked over to the couch and sat down with her cat in her lap.

"What do you think Van Helsing? Could there be a vampire in New York?" He purred in response. "Well, if there was one, then you would go after him. You do have to live up to your namesake." She exhaled. "I can't believe Meg would go along with Raoul. Accusing Erik. It's laughable."

_They're looking for a scapegoat and Erik is the perfect candidate. _

She hated that. With a groan, she buried her face in Van Helsing's black fur. To think Erik was the killer would be implying he was the so-called vampire that Raoul was looking for. Ha! Erik… a vampire. That was silly, crazy. And—

_Have you ever seen him during the day?_

She frowned. Come to think of it… she hardly ever saw him when it was daylight. No. She was positive she saw him during the day. She couldn't remember when, but she knew she did.

_Then why is it that whenever you meet up with him it's at night? Why doesn't he suggest lunch or a walk on a sunny day? _

"But that doesn't mean he's a vampire," she said aloud. "He could be busy during the day or he has a sun allergy. There are people who have it so severely that they literally can't go out in the day."

_Yeah… but wouldn't he have told you? _

"Not unless he's ashamed and doesn't want to admit it," she argued back. _After all, it wouldn't be fair for me to base our relationship on the lack of sunlight in our lives together. _

That shut up the cynical voice inside her head for the time being. That or the incoming headache. Christine rubbed her temples and the throbbing only grew worse. She set Van Helsing down and stretched out on the cushions. She was so tired and it wasn't long before her eyes closed and she drifted off in a deep sleep, but there was one last lingering thought on her mind…

Who was Christiana Danvers?

xxXXxx

_She was on stage singing to a full house and everyone was cheering loudly as she finished the final aria with a rising crescendo. People were jumping to their feet, applauding her success, and tossing flowers at her feet. _

_She bowed to them all, her heart pounding with the exhilaration. She did it. And they loved her._

_As the flowers began to build around her, there was one single offering that stood from the rest… a crimson rose with a black ribbon. She bent down and picked up the stem, her finger touching the silkiness of the ribbon and peering out into the audience at who could have given this to her._

_Even as she walked off stage, she couldn't shake the feeling she was being watched… The same unsettling feeling continued all the way to her dressing room. When she opened the door, there he was._

_Erik._

_She broke out into a smile, running into his arms and kissing him. "I did it Erik! Did you hear me? Did you hear them? They loved me!"_

"_Yes they did. I am pleased." Then he saw the rose in her hand and he frowned. "Where did that come from?"_

"_On stage. Why?" She frowned thinking it was him who threw it to her. _

_But he didn't answer her. Instead, Erik took the rose from her and crushed the petals in his grasp. She cried out but he threw the empty stem on the ground._

"_No! You can't have her! She's mine! MINE!"_

_She didn't know what was going on. What was wrong with Erik? Why was he upset? Why was he shouting? Who can't have her?_

_The door from behind opened and there stood in the doorway a dark figure. Erik grabbed her, pushing her behind him, but the figure… silently crept in. _

"_Erik?" she asked, her voice growing frightened as the shadowy person began to stalked towards them. _

"_I said no!" Erik exclaimed. "You can't have her! She's all I have left! You cannot take her from me!"_

_To her horror, the figure lunged and she was knocked to the ground, but it was too late. The darkness slammed into Erik and as she called out for him, she watched as his body began to tremble. An inhuman growl ripped from his throat and her mouth froze opened in terror as he slowly turned to her. _

_Gone was the man… A monster stood before her. His eyes blazed with blood red, his lips pulled back in a feral snarl. _

"_I had given you everything. You betrayed me."_

"_What? I didn't betray you! Erik!"_

_The thing standing before her threw its head back and laughed… Oh God! It was a hideous laugh! _

"_Erik's dead and so are you."_

_She screamed as he jumped on her, his teeth reaching for her throat…_

Jumping up, Christine panted as sheen of sweat broke across her forehead. That dream had been too real for comfort. She ran her hand through her hair, slowing down her breathing so she could get control of her emotions. All this talk about vampires was getting to her and now she was dreaming about them.

Shaking her head, Christine got up and fixed herself some lunch. By late afternoon, her head was not bothering her anymore, but she couldn't shake the chills so she continued to throw on more layers to keep her warm. To pass the time, she straightened up the apartment, unconsciously checking Erik's apartment. However, whenever she did… all she could see was the familiar black curtains.

She should have known that wasn't going to change, but part of her was hoping that a glimpse would… _What? Prove them wrong? You know Erik. You're jumping to conclusions and all because of their fucking paranoia. Raoul is just jealous and that's all to it. _

She didn't even want to think about Meg's earlier comments about his mask. She knew a long time ago that he was hiding a deformity of some kind or at least some nasty burn. He's always careful to make sure it doesn't move whenever she's around him and she couldn't blame him for wanting to cover it up. While most people in this day and age can look past appearances there were still ignorant jackasses out there who could make a person's life miserable for looking different. She knew his past wasn't the best based on the little that he spoke of and as much as she wanted to know more… she wasn't going to push him until he was ready. Besides, he was a perfect gentleman in her company.

Except for that first kiss.

He did apologize and they talked it out, but now… her mind wouldn't let it drop. There was more to it than what he said. But what?

Then the most amazing thing happened.

Erik parted the curtains and he was right there… waiting for her.

All second thoughts and doubts faded away and she felt better than ever with one look at him.

Christine checked to make sure Van Helsing and enough food and water before she went out to meet him. Erik was already standing on the balcony and he took note of her robe and flannel pajama pants and shirt.

"How do you feel?"

"A little cold, but I'm all right."

"We need to get you in so you won't catch anymore chills." Erik lifted her over to the other side like he always did and ushered her inside.

"Thank you for last night. Getting sick was the last thing I wanted to do."

He smiled. "You don't need to thank me. You were ill, it happens. Are you sure you're feeling better?"

"Yes," she replied, touched with his concern. "I'll shake it off in no time. I heal quickly."

Her slight tremor did not go unnoticed and Erik disappeared into one of the rooms and brought out a blanket.

"You don't have to—"

"Nonsense," he interrupted, placing the blanket over her shoulders. "If you protest, I will carry you back and I won't play for you."

She pouted. "That's not fair."

He kissed her forehead. "Sit. I'll make you a cup of tea."

She did and it wasn't long before he placed the steaming cup in her hands. Christine took a sip, watching him, as Erik took a seat at the piano and began to play.

Christine closed her eyes, allowing his music to wash over her. There was always something about the melody… the notes… that did something to her. It could inspire tears, laughter, smiles, anger, hatred, and hope. It was the last one that she was experiencing this time as well as something else… something she couldn't put her finger on.

Whatever it was… she didn't know what possessed her to do what she did next.

Christine set the cup down and stood up, causing the blanket to pool at her feet. She walked towards Erik, her footsteps muffled by her heavily padded slipper socks and his Persian rug.

He wasn't paying attention to her, which made it easier, but the voices of Meg and Raoul would not leave her be. She had to know.

With one hand, she pulled off the mask.

TBC…

Now, I'm sure some of you were wondering about the events of the previous night and how Christine remembers it… that will be explained later. Go on and make this authoress happy and (while she's working too) to make her day go by faster.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Thank you again to everyone for reading and reviewing! I have another long day at work today so your comments will make it brighter. Now… WARNING—this chapter lives up to its M rating and readers read at your discretion.

**Chapter 21**

For a moment, neither one stirred from their spots.

Erik kept his back to her; Christine still holding the mask in her tight grasp. Silence as thick as rope coiled around them, choking off any sounds. Christine's chest rose but not a single breath of air escaped her as she continued to stare at his back. An apology rose but quickly died once it touched her lips. How could she apologize for doing something as horrendous as breaking his trust? It was always an unspoken thing between them, and when it was brought up, she assured him he had nothing to fear from her. She even had joked she would never rip his mask off of him unawares.

How the cruel irony was now a slap to the face.

Deep down, Christine knew this wasn't her. She would never do something like this and it was another her… another Christine she was watching. The other Christine who was tormented with doubts thanks to her friends. That was the Christine who took the mask and not her. No… she loved him and she wouldn't betray him.

However, no matter how she wanted to twist the facts, the point remained… it was her hand that snatched the mask, the one shield of his, away and she did it because she allowed Raoul and Meg to get to her. To plant the seeds of doubt in her head about Erik, and ultimately chose them and not her heart.

If only she could take back those last ten seconds!

Without a word, Erik rose from his seat. His entire body tensed, his hands clutched into fists, and he began to shake.

"E-Erik?" she whispered, her free hand reaching to lightly touch his back.

The single touch caused him to quake even more and he jerked away from her, which Christine pulled her hand back as if burned. Whatever he did next… she deserved it… she was resigned to that. He could yell, curse, and Hell if he wanted to hit her… she would take it all and more because her actions were far worse than any punishment he could give.

She was bracing herself for his temper, knowing the last time he was upset… she had been frightened but she would not leave. Even if he demanded her to, she was not going to budge.

She hurt him and she needed to be punished.

Erik's hand went up to his cover his right side and finally… finally he turned around to face her.

He was panting, his turquoise eyes glowing in the dark giving off a yellow glint, and in the shadows… he looked like the angel of Hell.

"Why?" he hissed the one word. "_Christine why?_"

Her mouth was dry and she tried to speak, but nothing would come out. Instead, she looked at his hand covering his face and reached out once more.

Erik jumped away, the intensity of his eyes glowing brighter than ever. His lips were pulled back in a vicious snarl. "Answer me! Why Christine!"

What could she say? That she was driven due to all these suspicions? But the more she thought about it… there was more to it than what Raoul and Meg said. All this time… the pieces she picked up about Erik were few and she wanted to know the whole man. She wanted to know his secrets, his deep desires, his hopes. She wanted to know what happened back in Paris that he guarded so heavily from her. What caused him to lose his music? Yes, a woman was involved… but she wanted to know more about that part of his life.

Because she was in love with him.

Christine inhaled deeply and said, "I'm tired of the hiding. Please Erik… don't hide yourself from me now. Let me see you."

This time, when she reached for him, he did not attempt to evade her as she brought his hand away to reveal what she had always known all along.

Yes, his face was a gruesome sight to behold; a deformity that was unlike anything she ever seen before from the news or in the movies. But as she gazed upon him… the first word that came to mind was pain. His deformity looked painful.

There was hardly any skin to cover the right side of his face, and the little that was there, barely was enough as a barrier for the cool, hard mask. It was red and irritated and the tiny specks of white flesh looked sallow. His cheekbone was protruding, and the little veins exposed were bruised and black, dead from either the constant rubbing of the mask or from natural reasons. His right eye was sunk in, and she noticed he had no eyelashes or an eyebrow. His nose was completely missing—a gaping black hole was in the spot where it should have been; his lips were slightly bloated with the corner of the upper one being larger than the lower.

If she didn't know him, then she would have thought this was good make-up for a possible horror movie. But this wasn't a horror movie and he wasn't a monster… no he was Erik.

Her Erik.

Her Angel of Music.

She dropped the mask to the floor and gently cupped his exposed cheek. He winced, the air squeezing out from his tightly lipped teeth.

"Does it hurt?" she asked softly. He looked at her, baffled by her question.

"It… doesn't disgust you?"

"It's startling to be honest, but nothing I have seen and I have seen some crazy stuff. I told you. I'm the queen of horror movies and your face doesn't scare me. It _could never _scare me. You're my Erik."

Christine brought his face closer and gently brushed her lips against his. This kiss was different from past kisses, now that the mask was no longer an obstacle. She was able to deepen their kiss more, but before she gave into that pleasure, she wanted to know him better.

His swollen lips were an interesting paradox. They were both smooth and rough, and she did have to angle her face more in order to touch most of him. From there, she shifted her mouth, delicately kissing his jaw-line, and then slowly moving up his cheek, being mindful not to put too much pressure where there were exposed veins. Every taste, every texture was uneven, bumpy, and even a little soft in certain parts, but it was Erik. By the time she reached up to his eye, kissing his brow-bone, she could taste the salt of his tears as he collapsed to the ground.

Christine looked down, stunned, as Erik wept at her feet. "How-how could you touch it? How—?"

Christine lowered herself to his level so she could look him in the eyes. She held his hands and said, "Because it's you. I love you Erik. I know it's too soon, but when I'm with you… I feel like I found the other half of me. I had no idea what I was missing until you entered my life."

"Y-you love me?" he whispered brokenly.

She laughed. "You're the only Erik I know. Your face doesn't change anything, except you don't have to hide from me anymore."

In all of his pitiful existence, the one thing he ever wanted was for someone to gaze upon his grotesque features with love. As a man, he was rejected by his mother and in Persia… the slave girls all turned away from him, begging and pleading for death… He was only fooling himself to think a woman would look anything but contempt at him. Even when he did brave the possibility that Christiana would be different, he was still rejected.

As a vampire, the demon whispered that no woman would have him and they should be punished. How often did he take in delight in torturing young girls with his face exposed just so he could hear their screams? And from their screams, they would suffer so. The demon took great pleasure in Erik's sadistic ways, urging him on to destroy and kill. Love would never be in his grasp and the demon would remind him of that.

But Christine…

Seeing her loving expression, something in Erik rekindled. He wanted to possess her, seduce her, but he never thought he was capable of loving her. Love did not seem plausible not with the demon in the background.

Yet, right now, he couldn't hear the demon's voice. It was silenced with her declaration of love and her sweet kisses. Was it possible for this creature to love after all? Was it possible the demon would not kill her?

Erik was in awe over the sudden rush of emotions, especially since he could not remember the last time he cried. It had to be when he was once human. And now this angel kneeling on the floor beside him was telling him she loved him, she touched his face, she kissed his deformed features, and she still loved him.

She had no idea what she just done.

Her lips touched his again and this time… Erik kissed her back fiercely. His arms wrapped themselves tightly around her, bringing her closer to him. He couldn't believe this was happening! He couldn't believe this angel was real!

His fingers tangled in her curls, the softness of her robe rubbed against him. Then he remembered what he did and he pulled away, his head dropping so not to see her. As much as he longed to be a man right now… he knew he was a monster and she had no clue.

"Erik?" His name on her lips was raspy, her eyes glazed with desire.

"Christine…" He closed his eyes and sighed. "I…I don't deserve you."

The clouded look in her eyes began to fade as anger took over. "Don't you there turn away from me now Erik! If you bring up your face and how I'm going to regret this I will kick your ass. Don't think that I won't. I told you I love you and that's not going to change. I will love you tomorrow, the day after, and the day after that. There is no regret and you better not fucking regret anything either!"

He gazed at her in amazement. This… tiny slip of a woman who was sick still had the voice and power of a lioness. _Mine… she's mine._

Without warning, Erik crushed her back to him, his lips ravaging hers. It didn't take long for them to go back where they were and she was tugging on his shirt. He didn't break contact as he lifted them up the floor, his tongue snaking in and out of her hot mouth as her nails scraped his chest. Erik walked them into his room, never once breaking a beat, as he sat her on the edge of the bed. He could keep kissing her forever, but she needed air.

He drew back as she let out a loud gasp and dragged his lips down her throat, taking little nips of her sweet skin. As the lust continued to build up within him, Erik focused on Christine, the sighs and moans and the other sounds coming from her mouth. There would be no interruptions, no repeats of last time. He would be in control!

Christine was on fire. There was no other way to describe how Erik touched her, kissed her. Each caress, each teasing taste of his mouth sent her reeling and she was desperate to feel him against her. The robe she wore was stifling and she pushed him away so she could quickly undo the ties around her waist. She fumbled with the fabric, cursing loudly as the knot wouldn't give at first. Finally, she exclaimed in sheer victory as the robe parted and she could push it off her shoulders.

Perhaps, if she had been in a sound mind, she would have waited for a different time for this moment. A time that would be a little more romantic, and not to mention, something sexier to wear instead of her PJs. Yet, she had been on the verge of a desire breakdown when she was around Erik. Maybe this wasn't how she fantasized them making love for the first time, but right now it still felt right and perfect.

The robe was tossed on the floor and she undid the first three buttons of Erik's shirt so she could attack the revealing skin. She kissed and licked her way up to his throat, making him squirmed and moan. She loved that she could do this to him. For every touch of her lips only sent him more in a frenzy and when she kissed his twisted features again… Erik let out an impassioned roar and tackled her on the mattress.

His shirt was gone and she barely had a glimpse of his pale chest before he covered her with his body, kissing her with every ounce of desire he felt for her. While they kissed, she allowed her fingers to do some exploring as she teased her way down his spine, tracing the strong contours of his muscles. He was cool to the touch, which was exactly what she needed and only aroused her more, as her body was burning in an intense inferno. Then her curious fingers trailed across his abdomen, causing him to pause to let out a hiss, before she could press her hand against his aching lust.

The delicate touch had Erik trembling and it brought a flood of tears to his eyes. This was making love… all this time he only committed mindless encounters with women to quench his need for the joys of the flesh and his bloodlust. Never once did he take the time to get to know a woman's body, feel her desire for him grow. Christine's face was flushed, her eyes burning into his with love and lust. Never had he seen anything so beautiful that he wanted to capture every second in his memory for all eternity.

As much as he wanted to slow things down, Christine had other plans as she rolled them over so she was on top. Her mouth was swollen and red from his kisses and a primal sense of pride washed over him. He did that to her. He put that dazed look on her face. Not the demon… no it was only Erik.

Christine had to catch her breathing and the change in positions gave her the chance to breathe while getting a better view. She knew he was lean and his body was a true work of art. In the moonlight, his chest was smooth and strong to the touch. She continued to ghost her hands across him, feeling each contour and… scars? She looked down and upon further inspection she saw the evidence of old scars that had been long healed, but left criss-crossed markings on his flesh.

She touched the scars tenderly, wondering who would do this to him. Erik saw the change in her visage and placed his hand over hers. She brought a tear-filled gaze to him and he smiled softly.

"Don't…" he bid. "It's in the past, long forgotten where it belongs."

"But—"

"Shh." He pressed a finger to her lips. "Not now."

She nodded and pressed a kiss to his finger. "I love you."

The look that he gave her filled her with joy, and although he had not voiced it yet, she knew that he loved her too. Christine kissed him lightly once more and reached for the bottom of her shirt. She lifted it over her head and threw it to the side. Immediately, Erik reached for her, taking her in his large palms. She let out a soft sigh as Erik massaged her aching breasts and then gasped as his mouth enclosed over her nipple. Being completely distracted, Erik rolled her over so he was above her.

She was divine! So beautiful… and he couldn't get enough of her body or her mews of pleasure. She tasted so sweetly and he switched from one breast to the other, making sure both were getting attention. Then he slid his lips down her stomach, dipping his tongue in her belly button, before kissing her back up and suckling at her neck.

Christine clung to him, her moans encouraging him, as she stretched her legs out so she could rub herself against him. He grinded back as another rush of wetness went between her legs. God this man was going to be the death of her! She wanted to drive him off the deep end, to move this further, and she took a guess seeing how fixated he was on this part of her anatomy. Christine kissed down his throat, opening her mouth wide enough to scrape her teeth against him before she lightly bit him.

Erik's eyes widened in shock as pleasure like no other coursed through him and down to his loins. It was urgent now… he had to have her.

He violently pulled himself from her and began pulling her pants down. The chilled air hit her legs and Christine shivered, but the heated look in his now golden eyes warmed her and he dove for her, his own pants now gone too. She didn't have time to process when Erik thrust into her, his head tossed back as he let out a low moan.

Erik was… well big. He stretched her and filled her to the brink that it was almost painful. Yet, her mind turned to mush as Erik moved over her, his short, deep thrusts bringing her closer to the edge. She arched her back, her nails digging into his back, as his movements grew frantic and desperate. She hardly felt his fingers holding her waist tight, keeping her lower half pinned, but all she could think about was _yes…yes…right there! Right there!_

"ERIK!" she cried as she came, but to her surprise, he didn't stop. Erik kept pushing, grunting in his throat, as she could feel a second climax building up in her. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as Erik drove her over the threshold once more, and he followed her, his body slamming against hers.

Breathing hard, Christine welcomed his weight on top of her, her arms cradling him. She pressed small, quick kisses over his forehead, as her fingers stroked the ends of his black hair. Erik lifted himself up and looked into her smiling face, a pleased look in her eyes.

"Wow…" she said and he had to chuckle.

"Christine." He ran a finger down her cheek to her chin. "I…I love you."

Her smile grew even wider as she raised her face to kiss him. When she could feel him hardening inside her, she pulled back with her brow raised.

Erik could only smirk and they were once more moving together in that age old dance.

xxXXxx

Raoul stopped at the apartment and knocked. He called Meg to see if she talked to her, but the blonde wouldn't give him any details. All she said was they talked and argued and that was all. He assumed Christine didn't believe her if they fought and thought he would take the risk and talk to her himself.

And this time he was armed with proof.

If Christine didn't want to believe that Erik was their killer, then fine but she can't argue with the facts that he was not the nephew of Joseph Buquet.

Raoul clutched the file inside his coat tighter, knowing he was putting too much on the line, but this was nothing compared to the other offenses he had already committed.

He knocked again and there was no reply. He pulled out his cell and tried calling her house phone. It rang until the answering machine kicked in. He debated on leaving a message, and decided to leave one. It was straight to the point with a request to call him as soon as possible. Perhaps she was in the shower and knowing her… it will be a while before she got the message.

Sighing, Raoul turned around to leave when he pulled back in surprise as Nadir Khan was coming down the hallway.

"If you're looking for her, I can assure you, she's not at home."

"What…? Have you been watching her?" Raoul asked, his voice rising.

"Mr. de Chagny, please," Nadir said, motioning with his hands for the young man to lower his tone. "After what you told me earlier, you should have known I would follow up."

"I didn't think you'd follow her!"

"It wasn't difficult to find her address. And you're right… her resemblance to Christiana Danvers is uncanny. The first time I saw her I didn't put two and two together, but she did look familiar."

"What? When did you see her?"

"In a café some days ago. Anyways, I was at the club she works at and there was no denying it now. I believe she is the reincarnation of Christiana Danvers or at least a distant relative of hers. Regardless, this situation is what I fear the most. The creature has had contact with her. I saw him walking out of her dressing room and when I came here… I was hoping to speak to her, but she had a visitor… a young woman with blonde hair…"

"Meg," Raoul said.

Nadir nodded. "Her visit was short but when I knocked… I had no reply. She hasn't left her apartment all day, but I believe she is with him."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's find the bastard!"

Nadir blocked him. "Listen to me. Going right now without any preparation is death."

"But you said—"

"Yes, I know what I've said. But this is not something you can rush into with guns a blazing in hopes to save the girl. He is a _vampire_! He has not survived this long on luck. No… we will wait for the opportune moment."

"But Christine…"

"Right now… I believe she is in no danger. If we were to go after the beast now, then we would be putting her life at risk. No. We will wait. As for now, it's best you will not do anything to interfere unless she comes to you. Don't object, it's what needs to be done and you know it."

Raoul was reluctant to agree, but the hunter had a point. If he was to go in swinging, then he would be signing his death warrant and Christine's. No… they had to wait for the right time to strike. As much as he hated that, he knew that was their best option to remain alive.

"Fine. But are you certain he won't hurt her?"

"Honestly… he won't hurt her unintentionally. Not when she looks like her. If anything, I believe he might see this as his second chance to reclaim what he always wanted. Even the demon can recognize what a man wants."

"And that is?"

Nadir looked straight in the young man's eyes, knowing this was going to hurt him.

"A mate Mr. de Chagny."

TBC…


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Here we go! Lots more interesting stuff to enfold! Of course… we have to have the morning after. Then the drama will continue!

Guest- the demon isn't silent permanently. It was only quiet for Erik to make love to Christine because it is recognizing that she could be possible contender as a mate.

Don't forget to review!

**Chapter 22**

It was her internal morning clock that told her it was morning, otherwise she would have thought it was still night out with Erik's room thrown in darkness. As consciousness crept back to her, Christine stretched her body out; arching her back, as memories from last night came rushing to her.

She had to think twice about Erik being a gentleman now. He tossed that notion out the window when he took her five more times during the night. Each time she thought she would pass out from the sheer amount of pleasure that he gave her, but whenever she would dance around the oblivion, Erik would do something that kept her from slipping away. She couldn't help but blush as she recalled how he took her with his mouth and once from behind. It was like each time made him insatiable from the last, and she was surprised she could even keep up with him. He had been both rough and tender, and she loved his wild side. Christine never thought herself in liking the almost violent matter of lovemaking, but Erik brought feelings she didn't know existed out of her.

Yeah… she and Raoul had gotten crazy a couple of times, but never like she did with Erik. It never felt right with Raoul… And it inspired her to take control with her lover as she teased him with her mouth, of course, that only caused him to pick her up and throw her on her back before he mounted her and rode her to a soul-crashing climax. One thing for sure… Erik was orally driven and that put a smile on her face.

As she flexed her muscles, she was growing keenly aware of her very sore limbs and even sorer hips and pelvis. Her fingers roved down her curves, wincing as she brushed against a very tender spot at her side. Erik had pinned her to the bed and she was vaguely aware that it would leave behind bruises, but she didn't think it would hurt as much as it did!

Of course, she knew she left behind her own share of bruises on Erik, but she doubted she left him feeling the incapacity to walk. Christine pushed herself up on her arms, letting out a hiss through her teeth, as her body screamed. Despite the pain, Christine felt wonderful and blissfully satisfied. She doubted if her body could take another round, but she figured why not? It wasn't like she had to work tonight or tomorrow…

She rolled over to wake him up, but the space next to her was empty. Erik must be up and that made her smile even more. Well… the vampire theory could be tossed out as well.

Christine sat up and whimpered as she inched her way over to the end of the bed. Being gentle and careful, she draped her legs over the edge and scooted closer until her feet touched the floor. She took a deep breath and a mental count to three, she pushed herself to stand and only to fall back on the bed. Her eyes were squeezed tight and she decided maybe they should hold of on any future lovemaking until she could regain control of her limbs.

She lay like that for a couple more minutes and tried again. This time, she breathed through the pain as she stood on her shaky legs, but she had to sit down before she could take a step. Oh yeah… Erik was definitely good if she can't walk. This was something worth bragging to Meg.

Well, there was no physical way she could leave the room and was ready to call for Erik when she heard two voices murmuring outside the door. She couldn't make out what was being said, but she knew that one of the voices was Erik. Then the color rushed to her face as she remembered that his uncle lived here too and she knew she wasn't exactly quiet last night… Oh God… she would feel awful if they kept his uncle up during the night.

So Christine was stuck… should she call for Erik or should she brave the pain and grabbed her robe to leave the room?

"Third time's a charm," she mumbled and she did get to her feet, but bending down to retrieve her robe was just as worse as trying to stand up. Thank God for yoga and dancing as she lifted the robe with her feet so she didn't have to bend too much to grab it. Securing the comfy clothing over her body, the next task of walking to the door was going to be a challenge.

Christine shuffled towards the door, knowing she looked funny with the way she was walking all stiff and granny-like. _When I recover, he is going to be sorry! _She thought with a devilish smirk.

She was successful in leaving the room and as much as she wanted to do a victory dance… that wasn't wise at the moment. Christine braced herself against the wall, using it as support, as she continued her shuffle down the hall to the main room. The lights in the apartment were all on, but as she reached the living room she saw that the curtains were covering the windows.

Erik was in the kitchen and was putting breakfast together—the delicious aromas of toast and waffles greeted her rumbling stomach. But there was no sign of Erik's uncle. She decided that was a good thing and wasn't going to volunteer to ask where he was.

He turned around and she was happy to see he wasn't wearing his mask. "Good morning, _mon amour_," Erik purred.

God… his voice alone should come with a warning label: WARNING- Sexy, baritone voice can cause instant arousal with a single word; the use of French words will cause the person to experience an instantaneous orgasm. Use at your own risk.

Yes… Erik was a sin and she would gladly sell her soul to the devil to have another passion-filled night like that again.

"Good morning to you too handsome," she said and winced as she moved away from the wall.

Erik frowned then rushed to her aid.

"I'm okay. A little sore but I'm good," Christine insisted, but Erik gently picked her up and carried her over to the kitchen table.

"Christine… I'm sorry. Forgive me." His eyes were filled with sorrow as his hand wandered over her curves, carefully touching where her bruise was. "What did I do?"

"Nothing I didn't ask for," she told him. "I'm not a fragile doll Erik. I'll bounce back in no time. Let me do some stretches and you would never know."

At her words, an unusual glint passed over his face and he shook his head. "I should have had better control. I…"

"Erik, no regrets. So you got a little too carried away. A lot of people do. Hell, I'm sure you're sporting some battle scars from me."

That put a smile on his lips, although a thin one. "At least give me the honors to feed you."

"Food! Yummy!" she said. He laughed and came back with a plate. Seeing the one plate Christine looked at him with an arched brow. "Aren't you hungry? After last night… surely you worked up an appetite."

"I already ate. You've been asleep for a while."

"Well, whose fault is that?" she threw back, and opened her mouth as he tore a bit of her waffle to place in there. "This is good."

"Thank you."

"So… what's your secret and how do I get some of that?" Christine asked.

Erik cocked his head. "What?"

Christine shook her finger at him. "You know. There is no way you could have done what you did without help. So what was it? Pumped up sexual Wheaties?"

Erik chuckled. "Hardly. I just have good stamina."

"Really? Well, next time warn a girl. I'm going to make sure I stretch out before you give me a workout. Did you know I had a hard time getting out of bed?"

"Oh?" he replied innocently. "I had no idea."

"Yeah right." She rolled her eyes, laughing teasingly. "Just so you know. Payback's a bitch."

"I'll consider myself warned." His tone dipped seductively and she had to press her thighs together. "Hey, no sexy voice! That's a superpower you can't use. Right now I mean."

He nodded. "Fine. I'll use my boring old talking voice."

"Make sure you do." Christine took another bite and swallowed. "Erik? Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Your scars… how did you get them?"

He sighed. "All I can say, Christine, is that not everyone is as accepting as you when they see my face."

She gasped. "Who would do that?"

"My life wasn't an easy one and it's something I wish to not speak about. It's why my mask is essential."

"Your family has to care."

At that he let out a bitter laugh. "My mother was the one who insisted I wear a mask."

"Y-your mother? I'm sorry Erik, but what a bitch! How she could do that to her own child? When I meet her… I promise I won't be able to hold back."

"I appreciate that Christine. But there's no need. She's dead."

"Oh. Your father?"

"Dead. I don't have anyone."

"Your uncle shouldn't care nor does he?"

"As I said, not everyone is as accepting as you."

Christine leaned back in her seat and frowned. "I don't like that. How could they? Especially your uncle. You're the one who is helping him. He should be able to look past it and see you for who you are."

"It's no bother to me. I'm used to it honestly. The only person I was ever concerned about was you."

She grinned. "Well no more worries there."

"No. There's not." He smiled back. "Let's not dwell on this sadness. Another day I promise I will tell you more. For now, let's enjoy this."

Christine nodded. "Okay. No more sad questions or sad pasts. But I do have one more and it's not about your scars."

"All right."

"Why are the curtains closed? You'll be saving a lot on the electric bill with natural lighting."

"I have a sun allergy," Erik said. "I can't have any sunlight exposed to me or I will blister horribly."

"No sunlight? Ever?"

"Depends on the time of day," he replied. "Early dawn and dusk the sun is not at its highest peak or burning the brightest. Even then I have to be careful. So I choose not to take the chance."

"Well that explains a lot."

"It's something I don't like to share right away." He watched her carefully, gauging her reactions. "Is that a problem?"

"No! Of course not," she answered quickly. "I was curious. I haven't seen you during the day before and I had a feeling it was an allergy. Good thing you told me or else I would have opened them if my legs could stand to walk that distance over."

"I don't think you would have if you could."

"I did take your mask off when I said I wouldn't. You never know with me. But I guarantee I won't do that with the curtains. I wouldn't forgive myself if I gave you blisters."

"I appreciate that." Erik took her hand and kissed her knuckle.

"Although… I do need to check on Van Helsing. Are you able to look for me? If not, then could you carry me over? I promise I won't let any light touch you."

Erik looked from her to the window. Could he risk it? Taking a deep breath, Erik scooped her up and walked over to the window.

"Just… make sure you're careful," he said, setting her feet to the floor. He kept one arm around her while he stood away as far as he could while Christine pulled the curtain back to see.

True to her word, Christine blocked the little light letting in with her body and Van Helsing appeared to be all right, but she was going to have to go back to make sure he had his breakfast and fresh water. The only problem was getting back. She had a difficult time walking as it was and there was no way Erik could lift her over the balcony.

Erik sensed her frustration and in a reassuring voice, he told her, "Don't worry about Van Helsing. I can see if my uncle will go over for you."

"Really? I don't know Erik. I wouldn't want to impose…"

"Nonsense. When he gets back, I will ask him to go over. Now let's finish your breakfast."

By the time Christine finished eating, Buquet entered the apartment. Erik looked up and said, "Ah, uncle! You're back, good. I need to ask you a favor."

"Of course." Buquet stared at Erik, his expression not even wavering at the deformed sight. Christine wondered if he was stunned or if he was getting use to it, but he switched his attention suddenly to Christine. The brunette sheepishly waved and said good morning.

"Christine's cat needs to be fed and as you know… I have my allergy."

"Yes, right. I will do it." Buquet nodded.

"Um, thanks," she said. "Are you sure it's all right?"

Buquet smiled. "Anything for my favorite nephew and his lady."

"Okay." She thought that was a little odd, but who was she to argue? Then she realized. "I don't have my key. The only way to get into the apartment is through the window."

"That's not a problem. Where is the food?"

Christine told him where she kept it, but asked him again if he was positive. "It's no problem if I do it. I think I can walk over."

"No," Erik said firmly, gently pushing on her shoulders to sit back down. "My uncle will take care of it."

Christine watched as he opened the curtain and disappeared through the window. "I believe I owe him."

"My uncle? Don't worry about it. He likes being useful."

"If you say…"

"I do."

Yet, Christine couldn't shake off at how strange the exchange between uncle and nephew was. Erik didn't ask him… it was more like he told him to do it and Buquet went along. Maybe she was reading into it, but it was very odd. Then again, Buquet was a schizophrenic and Erik was a deformed genius who had to wear a mask. Perhaps normal wouldn't fit with their relationship.

xxXXxx

Erik insisted she stay until she felt well enough and she had to admit… she loved being pampered by him. After breakfast, Erik prepared a hot bath for her, which was exactly what the doctor ordered to soothe those aching muscles of hers. Then they spent the rest of the day talking and singing. On more than one occasion, both were consumed by their addicting love and lust for each other, but Erik, returning to his old gentleman like ways, would not do anything to compromise her further.

That irritated and relieved her at the same time. At last, Christine was able to walk around without a limp or her shuffle. She was still slightly tender, but she spent the day resting and soaking at Erik's insistence and the sun went down enough for him to help her over to her apartment.

It was nice to see Erik in the partial sunlight. Yes, he was still extremely pale, but the light did give him a glow like a fallen angel. Her fallen angel, she corrected.

Christine leaned over the rail, and kissed him. "Not exactly how I expect to spend the morning after, but it was nice anyways. We should do it again soon."

He chuckled and kissed her back. "Your wish is my command."

That sent chills down her spine and she smiled goofily. "Seriously. Warning label. Might want to stick it on your forehead."

"I'll remember that," he promised, and Christine wished she wasn't sore so she could jump him again. After that incredible night, she was ruined for any man. If Raoul wanted reconciliation, then he was in for a big surprise. She said good-night and went inside to find Van Helsing glaring at her.

"What? Hey, I was being thoughtful when Erik's uncle came over for you. Next time I'll let you starve, happy?"

The cat yawned and slithered off, which Christine shook her head. _Crazy cat_, she thought. _He's the only male that I can't please right at the moment_. As she went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea she saw that her answering machine was blinking. She hit 'play' while she busied herself with her drink.

"_Hi Christine, Raoul. Look… I'm standing outside your apartment but I'm guessing you're not home or in the shower. I need to talk to you ASAP. Call me once you get this."_

The beep followed and then another message.

"_It's me again. Christine I really need to speak to you. Call me."_

"_I guess I missed you. Call me when you get this."_

"_Christine, I know you have a right to be mad at me… but please… we need to talk. I can't begin to tell you how urgent this is."_

A couple more messages followed with the same thing, and Christine deleted all of them. After her tea, she climbed into bed and fell asleep… never once thinking she should call Raoul back.

xxXXxx

When Christine returned to work, she was excited to see it packed again. It was Classical Night and she made sure she called Erik to tell him about it. She only got his answering machine, but Christine decided to give him a little preview by singing her message to him and how he was invited to watch her perform. And at the end, she prayed Erik's uncle did not understand French, she left him a little naughty promise about her plans for tonight after the show.

She found a website on-line that would translate anything English to French so she hoped to God it was right and she said it correctly. If not… she won't ever do that again.

Christine stepped back from her mirror to admire her outfit. She found a form-fitted shimmering pale pink gown that was in the back and thought this would be perfect for the evening's show. She donned a pair of sparking diamond earrings and pulled her hair into a chignon, which she fitted with a rhinestone tiara. To complete the look, she found a scarf that was the same color pink as the dress and wrapped it around her throat. She never realized how fashionable scarves could be and thought this might be a good look for her.

Christine stepped out of her dressing room and began to make her way towards the stage. She never saw the cloth or hand coming at her as she fell unconscious.

TBC…


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: Thank you everyone! I see I have new followers/readers so welcome! There is not that much action going on in this chapter, but some truths that needed to be said. Also, some of you might find that Nadir comes across as an asshole. I did that purposely since he is a vampire hunter and I needed someone to be objective, calculating, and cold-hearted. This is not the Nadir we all know and love.

And… well, I couldn't wait to post this chapter. So I am giving this to you early and I will have chapter 24 ready on Sunday. Don't forget to review!

**Chapter 23**

When she regained her faculties, Christine found herself in a small room with her hand handcuffed to the chair she was sitting on. She grasped her wrist and began to pull frantically, but a jeering voice stopped her.

"Don't bother Miss Daaé, You are not going anywhere for a while."

"Who's there?" she called her head whipping around trying to see through the dark. "What do you want?"

She heard a click and the room was flooded with light. She squinted, not expecting that, and when she was able to adjust her sight she saw a man leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Christine never saw him before, but there was something oddly familiar about the dark-skinned man and sharp eyes.

"I'm sorry we had to meet like this, but considering the circumstances, this couldn't be put off any longer. Let me assure you, my dear, you are in no danger."

He spoke with an accent and Christine couldn't make out what it was, but if she had to guess, it would be something Middle Eastern.

"If I'm not in any danger, then why did you handcuff me?" she shot back, glaring at him. "You better let me go. People are going to start looking for me."

He had the audacity to throw his head back and laugh. "I will give you credit… you have spirit. But I do not mean you harm and you won't be gone for long for your co-workers to worry. As for the handcuffs… well it was a necessary precaution."

"Gee, I bet you tell all the girls that," she mumbled.

He chose to ignore her and continued like she didn't say anything. "I needed to speak to you about a mutual acquaintance that we know. Before I get to business, I should introduce myself. My name is Nadir Khan."

"Wow… you're putting an awful lot of trust in me Mr. Khan in giving me your name. Or if that's even your real name."

"It is. I could provide proof for you if you like, but that's the least important thing you need to worry about. However, after our meeting, if you wish… you can speak to your former beau. He will tell you who I am."

"Wait… _Raoul _knows you?" Christine spat out in disbelief.

"I see I have your full attention now. Good. Shall we begin? As I said, we have a mutual acquaintance… no not him but he is one… and in my line of work something of this delicate nature is best left unknown to others. However, this situation calls to let other people in and your Mr. de Chagny is one of them. You see, this revolves around you and your involvement concerns me. I never came across a case like this where it did not finish the game. So I had to wonder… there is more to it than the simple rules of cat and mouse."

Christine looked at him like he lost his mind. "What the Hell are you talking about?"

"The 'Phantom' murders, Miss Daaé. It's been a long time since one of these became a high-profile case and I know you have been indirectly linked to them."

She frowned. "What do you mean? I didn't know those women."

"No…" he agreed. "You didn't know them, but that doesn't mean there isn't a connection. Let me assure you that none of this is your fault. Do not blame yourself because you had no idea that he was capable of it and you don't know what he is. But I do need your help in making sure this doesn't happen again. You see… the killer is someone you know very well. Perhaps, the two of you, have been intimate, but one thing is for certain, the devil cannot be disguised for long. Eventually, he will reveal the true nature of the beast."

A shiver slowly curled down her spine. _He couldn't mean… No! _"I have no idea who you are talking about."

Nadir regarded her, tilting his head as his stare searched her face. "Tell me, Miss Daaé, do you believe in the existence of vampires?"

Her eyes widened. "You can't be serious…"

"Oh but I am," he went on. "Of course, the vampires that walk among us are not like your vampires in the books and movies that are trending at this very moment. They are not romantic. They are ruthless, killing machines with the intent to destroy and fulfill their gluttony for human blood. They are unnatural and an abomination. Yet, they will come to us in the form of our friends, lovers, neighbors, children, spouses, and family; lure us in because we refuse to believe that a loved one would hurt us. We are all victims waiting to meet our end."

"No…" she whispered, whimpering as she tried to cover her ears. "You're insane."

"I have been called far worse and maybe I am… but the truth doesn't change nor the facts. In the world of vampires, Miss Daaé, it is viewed in black and white. They are no shades of gray. They are merciless and soulless. They do not have the emotions that we have. They forgot what it means to be human and how to feel like one. They can't… not with the inner demon that is hidden inside and who seizes control over their bodies. Vampirism is an infection, a disease, which knows no discrimination. It is the Black Plague of the 21st century that will continue on long after we die. That is a true vampire!" He spat his last words by gripping the arms of her chair, and looking her square in the eyes. "And it is a true vampire that killed those women and who has killed more waiting to be found."

"It can't be…" she said, shaking her head. "No… You're crazy, mental, psychotic! Vampires aren't real! You're a real fucking nutshell!"

He removed his hands from the chair, but kept his head level to hers. "But I am here to protect you."

"Some protection!" she shouted. "Let me go! Help! HELP ME! SOMEONE HELP!"

He slowly shook his head. "No one will hear you Miss Daaé. So you might as well save that pretty voice of yours before you scream yourself hoarse." Nadir clasped his hands behind his back as he circled her. "Sadly, your reaction is proof to me that you are under the monster's spell. Even now… you still want to protect it and you have no idea why."

When he came around, Christine was ready and she spat at him. With mild amusement, he wiped his cheek with his fingers and laughed. "Mr. de Chagny warned me about your stubbornness. Now, let me ask you some questions and you don't have to answer. Just listen. Have you wondered why he needs to keep the sun out? Why he only roams at night? Perhaps, why he eats little if not any food? Has he had violent outbursts? Has his behavior seem strange at any point? Does he have someone with him who acts just as odd? Have you ever wondered why he uses music to draw you in? Why he has the constant need to hear you sing? Ah… I see you do know. Your eyes tell me what your tongue will not. You know it is him I'm speaking of. You know but you're afraid to admit it. So, let me ask you one more question and the rest is up to you… does he wear a mask?"

Christine couldn't stop the tears from spilling and her silent sobs was all the answer he needed. Calmly, Nadir placed a hand of comfort on her shoulder. "I know Miss Daaé. I know this is hard to understand, hard to accept. You hate me and I do not fault you for that. But even you can see that he is dangerous and every second spent with him will put you at risk."

She couldn't speak. The words couldn't come out as her breathing grew ragged and short. _No it can't be… Not Erik. It can't be Erik! I would have known! I would have…_

But had she? Deep down, had she known all along or was she choosing to be blind?

Nadir allowed her to cry for a while more before he could continue the rest he had to say to her.

"I have been trailing him and I believe he doesn't know of my presence… yet. I have been after him for a long time now and this is the closest I have ever been. It grieves me to do this to you, to tell you this, but there is no other way. Does he speak of Paris?"

She shook her head.

"Has he told you about a woman named Christiana Danvers?"

That got her attention. "No but Meg mentioned her. Who is she?"

"The one who started it all. Erik… yes, I know his name, was a lonely man who fell in love with a young opera singer. He caught her with another and in a jealous rage that was fueled on by the demon… he killed them. After that, he went on a blood rampage. My ancestor was a friend of sorts and he tried to stop him, but he couldn't kill his old friend. So it has been up to my family to protect the people from creatures like him. However, in his journals, he wrote saying that Christiana Danvers' death was what freed the demon and ultimately destroyed the man that was left. He was a musical genius among other talents and my ancestor found the remains of his destroyed scores. The music died when that singer bled her very last drop."

Nadir pulled out the photo from his pocket and showed it to Christine. It took all of her willpower to look at the old picture and when she did… she couldn't believe what she saw.

That was her!

"Unbelievable, I know. But you are like her in many ways. I'm sure Erik knows that and it is why he seeks you out. I'm sorry, my dear. If there were some other way of breaking this to you, I would, but there you have it. To him, you are Christiana Danvers and this is his second chance. No doubt the chaos that would be created was something the demon allowed him to pursue, otherwise you would have ended up dead a long time ago. I'm sorry you got caught up in this, but you see why I need your help. This 'man' needs peace and I can bring him that."

"By killing him you mean?" she spoke, her voice trembling. "You have the wrong one. He's different. He-he loves me."

Nadir sighed. "Child, he doesn't know what love is. He might remember how it felt, but the demon would never allow a weakness like love to fruition. The demon would use love to gain what it wants but that is all. Love is a pawn."

"To hell with the demon!" Christine yelled. "He's Erik! He won't hurt me! He would never hurt me!"

"Are you so certain?" Nadir pointed to the scarf. "It's not that cold out for a scarf to be needed."

"No but it's called a fashion statement," she retorted, shrinking back as he reached for the scarf. "What…? No!"

Nadir ripped the material away from her throat and he looked at her with such… sorrow. "This will prove to you once and for all what kind of creature he is." He pulled out a small mirror and held it out so Christine could see her reflection… and the puncture marks.

She gasped, her hand shooting out to grab the mirror as she gazed intently. There they were. Two holes, now small, as they were healing stared right back at her. When… when did that happen? She couldn't remember. She couldn't remember!

The mirror fell in her lap as she felt the marks… bumpy and everything now seemed so real. What this man… Nadir Khan said… it was true.

"Do you remember how you got those?"

"No."

"Do you remember ever seeing them before now?"

"No."

"Do you remember why you put a scarf on?"

She sucked in some air before saying, "No. I don't remember anything. I don't remember—"

He nodded sympathetically. "It's the compulsion at work. He didn't want you to see them so he compelled you to unconsciously cover your neck up until they healed completely."

"C-c-compulsion?"

"It's like hypnosis. All vampires possess this ability to make their victims forget or control them if they prove to be a fight."

"Control?" she echoed quietly.

"It's a powerful suggestion and it only goes as long if the one has the strength to enforce it. It takes many years for the compulsion to do what it needs without fading. Sometimes the most powerful compulsions are the ones done after a good feed."

"Erik would never… Not with me…"

"Miss Daaé this is all a shock to you, but you need to understand. Those marks are real, that scarf you wore is real, and the reason you can't remember how they got there and why you need to hide them is real. He compelled you to forget and to cover them. It might take some time for you to break the influence, but at least you see through the lies now. That is progress, albeit small, but it's progress nevertheless."

"Tell me—" she started and licked her lips nervously. "The compulsion… can it work on feelings?" _Please tell me no._

"Yes."

One word and Christine felt herself coming undone. It was all a lie then… Her feelings… they weren't real. His love for her wasn't real. The wonderful night spent in each other's arms… that was all a lie. What was the best night of her life was now a perverted memory. And for what purpose? What was Erik to gain?

The photo of Christiana Danvers stared up at her mockingly.

Of course… his long dead love, his muse. He murdered her and now he wants her back…

Betrayal, slick and cool as a blade, slid into her heart and as she wept… blood mingled with her tears. He never loved her. He never wanted her. Not Christine Daaé anyways. She was a substitute she realized. For what could have been if Christiana Danvers didn't have a lover.

All lies!

That meant Joseph Buquet wasn't his uncle. No… he was a helpless victim like she! Being controlled by Erik to do his bidding and whatever else he wanted done. That explained the odd behavior the morning after they… Of course Buquet would do anything Erik asked. Erik was his master.

She felt so… violated, so duped. She wanted to vomit, but she was so sick to her stomach that she couldn't bring anything up. She was used. She was dirty.

Christine sobbed. She should have known something was wrong when she realized she was falling in love. That had been too quick. Too fast. She should have known… Now looked what her blindness cost her! Innocent women died because of her and how many else like Nadir said?

Did Erik enjoy doing this? Was he secretly laughing behind her back the whole time?

What was she going to do?

She didn't realize she said it aloud until Nadir responded.

"The best thing right now is to act like nothing has changed. Don't let him think that you suspect him. Don't give him any reason to be suspicious or he will compel the truth out of you or worse. This is going to be a challenge Miss Daaé. I won't lie to you. This will be the hardest performance you would ever have to undertake. Fooling a vampire is a tricky thing to do as long as you are in control of your emotions and your pulse."

"My pulse?"

"Yes. He can sense when you're lying by your heart rate. I know you have a lot of anger and hatred right now, but you must keep your calm. No matter what, is that clear?"

Christine nodded. "T-then what?"

"Then… I will do what I must to make sure that no other innocent woman suffers by his hand again."

She blanched. The thought of Erik dead filled her with dread and she felt ill once more. "C-couldn't you ask him to leave?"

"My dear don't be a fool. Wherever he goes he will kill and feed. He cannot help it."

"But—"

"There are no buts Miss Daaé. There is only one way to stop a vampire for good and I know it's not what you want to hear… but that's the way things are."

"Okay." She couldn't agree to Nadir's choice of action, but she understood the predicament they were all in. Still… the idea alone made her queasy and she couldn't imagine Erik being gone from her life.

"If you need anything or if you feel need help, then here's my number. I am always close just in case."

He handed her a card and then unlocked the handcuffs. "Come. You have a show to do."

"Show?" she repeated in a small voice. How could she possibly sing after knowing everything?

"Remember. You need to act normally."

_Easy for him to say_, she thought. Nadir returned the scarf to her so she could cover up her neck and then produced a blindfold.

"It's best you don't know where this location is," he told her. She didn't argue and within minutes she was back at Box Five.

It was almost time for her to go on.

Her mind was still in a fog over what happened. Hard to believe that minutes ago she was happy and in love… now she was terrified out of her wits. Yet, her heart was conflicted—horrified by Erik's power and what he did and the fact she didn't want Nadir to kill him.

She was second guessing everything that occurred between them, including her reaction to Erik's face. Did he compel her to accept it?

No… That had to be her. She knew it wouldn't scare her away, even if he had compelled her. That was something she believed that was all her and not him.

"Christine, you better get on stage. You're on in two minutes."

Two minutes to compose herself. She knew he would be out there, waiting for her. If she did anything… if there was a hitch… he would know.

One minute…

She took several deep breaths and double-checked her make-up. She quickly redid it and at least her eyes weren't as puffy from crying.

Thirty seconds…

She stepped out on stage and stood in front of the microphone. She could do this… she had to pretend. She was playing a role. She was the heroine of this story and she couldn't let the villain know that she was onto him. She had to pretend.

When the curtains parted and the lights were on her, she felt confident she could do this. All she had to do was think about those women. Their faces stayed in her mind as she began to sing…

TBC…


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics to Leona Lewis' "Bleeding Love." I'm borrowing them because it is an awesome song and it fits this story so well.

A/N: Here we are my lovelies! The next chapter, which is intense. As a precautionary warning—this story is rated M due to graphic content, language, and other adult situations. There is a scene that does start as rape, but changes to consensual. That is due to the nature of the characters and certain strong emotions. When a girl says no, she means no. This is only a story.

I'm just saying that to cover my butt. And don't forget to review! ; )

**Chapter 24 **

Christine finished with another standing ovation. She thought she would lose her cool, but she was proud she maintained her composure the entire time during her two sets. She knew Erik was out there and at the end… she found a rose with his signature black ribbon in her dressing room.

She was all too relieved to know she did manage to do the show without breaking down. At least, Erik was fooled.

For now.

When Christine returned home, she did something she hadn't done in a while. She checked all of her doors and windows and made sure they were shut and locked properly. If she sees Erik, she would tell him she had a headache and wasn't feeling well. It was a normal thing to happen and that won't be anything suspicious.

Yes… that was a good plan.

But to be on the safe side…

She picked up Van Helsing and carried him into her room. Once in the safety of her privacy, Christine allowed the tears to fall.

God help her.

She loved Erik still and he would destroy her.

xxXXxx

Sleep didn't come easy for her that night, and by the time she did, it was already dawn. She did manage to sleep for an hour before she got up and showered.

She wasn't planning on staying in the apartment so she thought a walk would be the cure. Fresh air was desperately needed and she needed to think.

As Christine wandered the city, she replayed what Nadir told her last night. He insisted that Erik was soulless, that he wasn't capable of feeling any human emotion, especially love. Yes, he could trick her with the grand illusion of love, but he couldn't really feel it.

Was that true?

She thought back to the all the times she spent with Erik. That was an awful lot of feelings to fake. When Erik had talked about Paris, he didn't give away much, but she remembered the pain and anguish that was in his voice and his eyes… the way they reflected such sorrow. Even talking about years long past, it still brought him pain.

Not to mention how he reacted after she saw his face.

Yes, he was angry but he kept his temper in check. He didn't lash out at her when he could have. And when she touched his cheek… when she kissed him… those tears she tasted were real enough. He was so unsure of himself when she told him she loved him, and he had been so childlike in that moment. So fragile. She could have easily broken him if she rejected him. Even when they made love… he had been so gentle.

_Okay, maybe he wasn't gentle for long. But he was once during the night. _

Wouldn't he have been rough each time? Uncaring over the pain that would bring her?

And he took such good care of her the very next morning. He made her breakfast, he prepared a bath, Hell… he even washed her back for her! He sang to her from the bottom of his being and did that still mean he was soulless? That he was playing the part of a dutiful lover and making sure he doted on her to avoid suspicions?

She knew she couldn't compare her situations to the movies and shows she watched with vampires… but it made her wonder. What if vampires could feel human emotions? What if they could love after all?

_That's the romantic side of you. The part that wants to stay in the happy delusion that all is peachy keen._

This was real life and real life did not always reflect the happiness that could be created in a fantasy.

But she couldn't deny that Erik was very supportive of her career. He told her she would shine one day and people would fall at her feet. He believed in her when Raoul never did. He cared…

But did he?

Or was he thinking of only Christiana?

Speaking of which, that little tidbit bothered her deeply. The fact that they both looked identical was disturbing on so many levels. And they even… well almost… shared the same name. Their initials were the same—C.D. And they were both sopranos. She was freaked out and she wasn't sure if she wanted to know if they shared anything else in common. If they did… then she didn't want to know.

Despite their resemblance, she wondered if she was Christiana. Could it be reincarnation?

No one else in her family was musical. But a lot of families could have that too. You didn't have to be from a musically-inclined family to sing or play an instrument.

Yet, the idea was out there and it did make sense at the same time. There was that one time when Erik was telling her a story and she had interrupted him with her strange musings. She didn't know what possessed her to say those things, but she did… it was like she knew. Deep down she knew what needed to be said, what she always wanted to say.

What did that all mean?

If it was reincarnation… Christine was grateful she didn't have any recollections of the evening Christiana was murdered. She doubted that would be something she could handle.

Christine felt like she was developing a migraine.

There was so much to think about and she didn't know what to believe in anymore. Nadir's explanation sounded valid and it made a lot of sense… yet did she not witness some contradictions to his claims?

Or were they real or part of her compelled imagination?

That was where the real conflict lied.

Reality versus a controlled fantasy.

She didn't know anymore.

Christine knew she had to talk to someone, someone who could provide another explanation… something objective to her plight. But who would listen to her? Let alone believe her?

Not to mention, the idea of telling someone the truth about Erik didn't sit right with her. It would be a betrayal… that's what it felt. She would be betraying Erik if she talked, but what about what he did to her? That was far beyond betrayal and more of a violation against her body, her heart, and her soul.

However, she couldn't do it.

It had to be the compulsion working. That was the only logical explanation that would prevent her from exposing Erik. She couldn't want to protect a murderer. Not when those women died so horribly… What kind of person was she if she did want to protect him? Was she saying that murder was all right? Would she be damned for wanting to keep him safe?

"This is fucking nuts," she said to herself. "I need help. That's what I need. Help big time."

Christine was growing weary and she had to get back to Van Helsing. She got back to her apartment and took a nap. She was out like a light for a few hours before she woke up to her phone ringing.

It was Angus wanting her to come in to sing because he had a call in. Christine didn't want to, but when she saw how late it was getting… she knew she didn't want to stay at home either.

"I'll be there," she told him and got up to get ready for work. After singing, she figured she would stay longer and waitress so she wouldn't have to return. Yes Nadir told her to act normally and not like anything changed, but she couldn't do it. Not when she was so close to the edge herself.

She needed more space between Erik and work was the perfect excuse to get away. Thankfully, it was not Classical Night and just another good old night of singing contemporary songs. That worked fine for her so she wouldn't have to think about him.

Until she got a request that made her think about Erik.

_Closed off from love, I didn't need the pain  
>Once or twice was enough and it was all in vain<br>Time starts to pass before you know it you're frozen_

_But something happened for the very first time with you  
>My heart melted to the ground, found something true<br>And everyone's looking 'round, thinking I'm going crazy_

_But I don't care what they say, I'm in love with you  
>They try to pull me away but they don't know the truth<br>My heart's crippled by the vein that I keep on closing_

_You cut me open  
>And I keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love<br>I keep bleeding, I keep, keep bleeding love  
>Keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love<br>You cut me open_

How true was that to describe her situation. How she loved Erik and at the same time how much she was frightened of him. Raoul had been right and she chose not to listen to him. At first, even Meg, was worried about how fast her relationship with Erik was moving, but Christine shrugged it off. She was an adult and she knew her own heart. Or at least… she thought she did.

_Trying hard not to hear but they talk so loud  
>Their piercing sounds fill my ears try to fill me with doubt<br>Yet I know that the goal is to keep me from falling_

_But nothing's greater than the rush  
>That comes with your embrace<br>And in this world of loneliness I see your face  
>Yet everyone around me thinks that I'm going crazy<br>Maybe, maybe  
><em>

That was her problem. She didn't want to listen. And when their doubts did get to her she removed his mask… She told Erik she was tired of the hiding. She wanted no more secrets, but what she didn't bargain on was how far and dark those secrets ran. Erik… a vampire. Who would have thought she would face this twist?

_But I don't care what they say, I'm in love with you  
>They try to pull me away but they don't know the truth<br>My heart's crippled by the vein that I keep on closing  
><em>

God, how she wanted to say to Hell with Nadir Khan and everyone else. But she couldn't… Her heart was crippled but there was no way she could close the pain.

_You cut me open  
>And I keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love<br>I keep bleeding, I keep, keep bleeding love  
>Keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love<br>You cut me open_

_And it's draining all of me  
>Oh, they find it hard to believe<br>I'll be wearing these scars for everyone to see  
><em>

Boy, does she have the scars to prove that this was insane. Erik had been able to stop himself that one time, but who's to say he can't another? What if he does lose full control and then what? Would he turn her? Or would he leave her to die? She didn't want to think he could do the latter to her, but even the idea of turning into a vampire filled her with unease. She knew she didn't want that either.

_I don't care what they say, I'm in love with you  
>They try to pull me away but they don't know the truth<br>My heart's crippled by the vein that I keep on closing_

_You cut me open  
>And I keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love<br>I keep bleeding, I keep, keep bleeding love  
>Keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love<em>

_You cut me open  
>And I keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love<br>I keep bleeding, I keep, keep bleeding love  
>Keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love<em>

_You cut me open  
>And I keep bleeding, keep, keep bleeding love <em>

Christine was only too thrilled to go back to her dressing room after that number. How she kept her cool… she didn't know, but once she left the stage, the tears were falling again.

Was this is how it was going to be? Would she be able to sing without Erik on her mind? Or would he haunt her?

She closed the door, and leaned back the wood. She didn't have to turn on the light to sense a presence. She knew he was there and when she lifted her face she jumped at the piercing white glow of his mask.

Christine held her breath as Erik reached and flicked on the lights of the room. She wished it was dark to hide her tears, but there was no turning back now as he looked at her in the light with new apprehension. The tension was so thick she could cut it.

"Why are you crying?" he asked, his voice soothing and coaxing. The faux concern had her on the verge of snapping. "Christine… tell Erik. Tell him what is wrong and—"

"And you'll what?" she hissed, looking straight into his eyes.

He took a step back. "I was going to say we'll have a nice night out, but I'm sensing that was not what you're thinking."

Her chest was heaving and the anger that she suppressed was bubbling and ready to spill over. She had to be careful with her words. He was a vampire and Hell a lot of stronger than her and he could crush her so easily… yet the danger of death only enraged her more. How dare he come in here and act like nothing's wrong? How dare he think he could seduce her with his charms and damn fucking voice!

"I know what you are."

There it was. She laid it out in the open and it was up to him on how he was going to take it.

"Oh? And what am I?"

He straightened to his full height, his shoulders wide and tense. The mask's scowl seemed to morph into a snarl as his eyes glittered dangerously.

"Go on Christine," his voice sneered. "Enlighten me."

"You killed those women," she said on a breath. "You murdered them in cold blood and… and…"

His hands slammed on either side of her face, his body now close… pinning her to the door. His chin dipped so he could look into her eyes, the mask… so close she could almost feel the porcelain scraping her cheek.

"Go on…" he whispered. "Tell Erik what else he did to those women…"

Her heart was pounding in her ears as she forced herself to meet his bold gaze.

"You drained them dry."

She expected him to deny it… she wanted him to deny it, but she wasn't expecting the hideous chuckle that escaped his lips.

"And what pray tell… is it you want from Erik?"

No, no. This was not at all what she was expecting. This eerie, chilling tone and the third person reference… this was not her Erik. No… this was the demon speaking.

"Ah, so Christine has figured it out then. She knows her Erik isn't all human. She knows he is the devil."

His breath was on her neck and Christine tightly shut her eyes to keep from looking in that golden storm that was brewing in his orbs. She could feel him shaking as his nails ran down the door to finally seize her shoulders. Her eyes flew open and before she could scream… he turned her around and backed her into the table.

"Go on. Scream. Alert someone that a monster is in this room with you. They would be dead in seconds. _Go on_."

It was a ploy. It had to be. He was testing her to see if she would call out for help. And as much as she wanted to… she couldn't put another person at risk. This was her doing and she refused to have someone else share her fate.

"Christine thinks she's brave now. She thinks she can count on Erik's compassion, but this is the real Erik. He's the devil who desires her and she desires him as well."

With that said, he tore the scarf she had on and angled his face so he could lick her neck up to her ear. Christine shuddered, her palms digging into the table to keep herself from falling, but his grip on her only tightened and she yelped in pain.

"So tell Erik. Tell him why you're doing this now."

"Erik," she whimpered. "S-stop."

"Stop she says?" he mocked her. "Does she think he would force her? Does she think that everything that happened between them was a game?"

At that, Christine couldn't hold in her anger any longer. "Why not? You compelled me didn't you?"

The flinch was all she needed to know it was true. "You did compel me… you bastard."

"No…" he shook his head. "It wasn't like that."

"Then what was it? You bit me Erik and I don't remember that happening. I don't remember why I have the constant need to cover this up!"

He groaned but his grip didn't loosen. "Erik is a monster, a demon. He didn't mean to… but he lost himself. He forgot… oh how he forgot what he was… Christine has to believe him. He would never… She has to know… She lov—"

"Don't say it!" Christine demanded, tears swirling in her eyes. "Don't you dare say that word to me when it's not real."

"Not real?" he sputtered.

"I fell for it you know. I thought I did love you and you me. But I know that's not true. Nothing is between us. You knew I looked like her… you knew and you _deceived _me!"

Erik gaped at her. "No…"

"Yes," she spat. "Christiana Danvers? Did you think I wouldn't find out? Or were you hoping that this was your chance to get what you wanted?"

"No! Yes… I did but not now. It changed. It all changed!"

"Lies!" Christine continued. "You're lying again."

"No! Christine knows Erik…"

"No I don't," she said sadly. "I don't know you at all. You're not the man I thought you were. You're a killer Erik. You ripped those women apart and how many before them? After?"

"It's Erik's nature!" he hissed back. "He doesn't have to justify himself to you!"

"No. But you lied to me all along. How can I be certain you won't kill me too?"

He blinked, stunned and momentarily speechless. His silence stretched on and the only thing Christine could hear was her heart racing and her ragged breaths. Then… finally… he said:

"You don't know how many times I came close to it." He lost the third person now as the Erik she knew was beginning to come through, but it was too late. The damage was already done.

"I wanted to kill you, Christine. The _demon _wanted your blood. But I kept it at bay to protect you! Yes, I did kill… but I had to for your own being! I would never forgive myself if I were to hurt you. You must believe that than anything else. I would never intentionally hurt you. I care too much for you to want your blood on my hands. And this has nothing to do with Christiana. It stopped being about Christiana the night I heard you sing…"

Christine looked away, not standing the sight of him. Erik saw that and he shook her hard so she would look at him again.

"Don't look away! LOOK AT ME!"

She did as fear spread over her face.

"You think this is frightening? Let me tell you Christine… I want you! I want you so bad it aches!"

With an impassioned roar, Erik attacked her mouth, pushing her more into the table. Her fists rose and tried to beat him away, but he was relentless in his lust for her. When it became a fight for air, he broke apart and she slapped his mask away from his face. That only infuriated him more and he jerked her so she was flush against him, his mouth sucking and biting her lips and tongue.

Christine did fight back. She even bit his tongue when it forced itself in… and Erik growled in delight. Her hand flew at his face once more and he caught her wrist, entrapping her as he continued to assault her.

When kissing became tiresome, Erik whipped her around and pushed her so the table hit her stomach. Christine cried as it jabbed her, but oh no… this was not turning her on. It couldn't turn her on!

But when Erik pushed her hands out so they were pressed against the mirror, her body spread over the table, she looked into her reflection and found him looking at her.

"Stay," he ordered as her body shivered and she obeyed.

She couldn't look away when his hands ran over her sides, touching every inch of her curves, then moving back up until he cupped her breasts. "Don't close your eyes." She couldn't even if she wanted to. Her knees shook as her lower half was flooded with heat and she felt her panties growing wet from his violent foreplay.

This was wrong. Oh so wrong… but it felt right.

Christine moaned as he slowly teased her nipples, running his fingers over them and then rubbing gentle circles. Over and over he rubbed them until his touch became harsh and he was squeezing too hard. Christine bit her lip, trying not to scream, but the pain felt so good as another gush of arousal went down her core.

"Yes… you desire the devil. You lust for him and yet… you want to shun him." His voice tickled her ear as those sinful hands skimmed over her stomach and settled at her hips. He nipped at her lobe, sucking it in and then letting it go. "Do you feel it Christine? The darkness? It's so tempting and you can't leave it alone. You crave it like I do. You want everything it entails but you are afraid to admit that's what you want. You want to believe it's wrong. But you can't deny how wonderful it feels."

She gasped as he began to pull her dress up until her backside was exposed. She trembled as one hand dipped into her pantyhose and fondled her.

"Well? Do you feel it?" he whispered as one deft finger slipped through her panties and into her. She clenched down and moaned as he thrust up. He played her with each teasing stroke, exalting in each gasp of pleasure and whimper that escaped her red lips. He added a second finger, then a third. He twisted them so it would brush against her nerves and each time he hit that spot… Christine found it harder and harder to keep quiet. One sharp thrust caused her to shriek.

"Yes…" he urged. "Yes… That's it. You want to scream. You want them to know it is I that is doing this to you. That you're allowing a monster to touch you so intimately. But that's not enough is it? Is it?"

"No!" she exclaimed, her eyes still locked on his orbs as they blazed with that golden fire.

"Tell me what you want Christine," he murmured. "Tell me what you need and Erik will give it to you."

She shook her head, she had to fight this… she had to resist him… but damn him! And damn her!

"Tell me!" he barked and at last Christine cried, "You! I want you!"

There was a large rip as the back of her legs met cold air. He pulled apart her pantyhose and her underwear was also ripped into two and without warning… he plunged into her.

Christine's gasp caught in her throat as Erik stretched her out, but like before, he didn't give her time to adjust when he started his brutal thrusting. Now she understood what he meant by the darkness that she craved. This… this was pure bliss and agony all wrapped in one. With each grunt and thrust, Erik was sending her to a place unknown and she felt herself spiraling out of control. She watched in the mirror as his face contorted from pleasure to anger to hate to… _it_.

She got a brief glimpse of the demon inside Erik twice… the first had been the first kiss she initiated when he ordered her to leave. The second was ten minutes ago when she confronted Erik. Now… now… she was finally seeing the demon face to face.

The structure of his face shifted and she could see the bones moving against his flesh as tiny spots of his skin bubbled and stretched. His forehead crinkled and bumps began to appear as his eyebrows arched up into a V; the hole that was his nose widened and dropped from where it normally should be; his mouth became angular as his lips stretched out into a sadistic smile. His teeth… they too changed and lengthened into incisors. And his eyes… the golden orbs flashed crimson red as the whites around his eyes disappeared.

The transformation also affected his deformity… the veins looked like they were pulsing and the skin was stretched far too tight when the bones changed. It was something out of a nightmare. The demon saw her expression and it looked pleased with what it saw.

_It _wanted her to see… _It _wanted her to know who it was taking her from behind.

She wanted to be disgusted. She wanted to push him away, but she moved along with him. She called his name, begging him to move harder, she wanted this… she wanted him… _it_. She wanted both man and demon and it frightened and excited her.

With a final thrust, he collapsed against her back as she shuddered from her climax. She couldn't move… her hands remained pressed against the glass as he withdrew from her. She watched as his face returned to normal and he adjusted his clothing. She watched as he slipped back on his mask and as he walked towards the door.

Before he left, Erik turned around. "Know this Christine. You willingly gave yourself to the demon. It is a part of me that I cannot forsake. And no matter where you go, or where you run, I will always find you. We are bonded, you and I. I can't let you go and neither would _he_. You are free to go."

Christine's body sagged over the table when Erik released her and she lifted her face into the mirror once more… not recognizing the woman who looked back.

This couldn't be her… but he was right.

She willingly gave herself over to the creature and she damned herself for wanting it so badly.

Tears stung her eyes as she knew what she had to do next.

TBC…


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: Wow! 100 reviews! You guys rock! And welcome new readers! I'm glad you're enjoying this as I am writing this. Sorry this one is a little short, but whenever that happens I have a reason for stopping. ;)

And to respond to some of you…

Taria Robotnik- Sorry… I have a feeling you might not like how I end this here. *evil laughs*

SwearByTheStars- Thank you! I'm glad you like the song picks as well. In fact, they are part of my soundtrack to this story when I write it and so I had to include them.

TBD- That's right. Erik has amber eyes when Nadir saw one with red eyes… but remember Nadir hasn't actually come face to face with him. He only had a feeling. And that's all I'm going to say. : )

Clara D- Sorry there is no Erik in this one… well not directly. Hang tight though! We are heading for a bumpy ride!

Sexy- Yup, the demon will always be a part of Erik. The only way to be free from it completely is death. It sucks but don't worry. The demon likes Christine.

And to everyone else—emeraldphan, belleange48, PhantomFan01, RavenousNight, DanceDance, Christina (thank you for the 100th! Erik sends his thanks too!), VampiresRule, Reviewer, Ariovc, and to anyone I missed I'm sorry but thank you so much too for being loyal readers! Your comments make my day and it's something I look forward to.

**Chapter 25**

Once Christine threw her clothes on, she rushed to Meg's townhouse. Knocking urgently, she was all too happy to see Artie opening the door.

"Hey Christine," he greeted then frowned. "Oh my… what happened?"

"Is Meg here? I need to talk to her."

Artie nodded. "Yeah. Come in."

Christine thanked him and walked inside just as Meg came out of the kitchen. The blonde looked at her friend and gasped. Christine's curls were disarrayed, her eyes red and puffy, her mouth was still swollen, her face void of all color. She looked like she had gone to Hell and back and lost.

"Christine… Are you okay?"

"Meg, I need to talk to you. Alone."

Recognizing the need for privacy, Meg nodded and took her hand. "Artie? Can you make us some tea? I'll take Christine into the bedroom."

Her fiancé disappeared to do that and Meg led her best friend down the hall to her and Artie's room. Christine walked over to the bed and slowly lowered herself on the mattress. She pulled her legs up to her chin and stared out blankly.

"All right. Can you tell me what happened to you?"

"You were right Meg. You, Raoul, Nadir Khan. I've been so blind and skeptical and I didn't want to believe it was true…"

"Whoa. Slow down and back it up. Who the hell is Nadir Khan?"

"He's the expert the police called in to help them with the case. He warned me. You all did and I didn't want to listen. I didn't—" Christine broke down as the weight of all the past events crushed down upon her and she sobbed.

Meg hurried to her—first grabbing a box of tissues—and sat on the bed while her friend cried into her shoulder. "How could I be so blind?" Christine gasped. "How could I be so ignorant?"

"Take it easy. Breathe, breathe. Good. Now, start from the beginning."

Christine took a deep breath and told Meg everything. She told her about her kidnapping/meeting with the Persian hunter and what he told her about Erik. She left nothing out as she pulled her hair to the side to show the marks where Erik bit her and how he had compelled her to forget them and cover it up. Then she told her about the confrontation with Erik at Box Five and how he admitted to her about the murders and his compulsion.

"After everything, what do I do? He seduces me although I can't say rape because I wanted him and I went ahead and had sex with him! How could I do that? How could I let him? After everything? Meg, he was so angry… I never saw him like that before and he… he… I saw his _face_!"

"Without his mask?"

"I have seen his face before that, but that's not what I mean. I saw _it._ The demon. It was nothing I ever saw before and… oh Meg it was horrible! Way worse than any horror flick because this was real. It was a real demon in him! But you know what? And it sickens me to say this, but I have to say it aloud otherwise I'm not going to believe it, but… it _excited _me. To see Erik lose himself, to give up control, all because of me, and I _liked_ it. What kind of person am I to enjoy that with someone who killed and who took advantage of me?"

Meg listened to every word, and to say it was all pretty shocking was the understatement of the year. How could she respond to that?

"I'm no better than a murderer myself," Christine spoke quietly.

"No you are not a murderer," Meg said firmly. Taking her friend's hands, the blonde looked her in the eye. "Christine just because you let him touch you like that does not make you a murderer. You didn't kill those women. All right? You didn't go up to them and torture them and drained their blood. That was him. You can't think like that."

"What else can I think? I'm pretty disgusted with myself and my weakness. How can you not do the same?"

"Because I'm your _friend_," Meg reminded her. "We all make mistakes."

"Like sleeping with a vampire?!"

"Okay. This is an unusual circumstance, I grant you that. But Christine, let's look at it this way. He's a vampire so can you blame him?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're the freaking expert when it comes to these guys," Meg said with a roll of her eyes. "He has to survive, doesn't he? You can't fault him for doing what comes natural."

"Wait, huh?" Christine looked at her friend tearfully. "Do you want to run that by me again? Because I'm sure the last time we talked… you were pretty much against him."

"I know," Meg said, shifting her weight. "And I gave it some thought. I was wrong to make judgments because of his mask. And yes… he's a vampire, which is hard to digest, but I'm getting there. The point is Christine you were happy. For the first time ever, you were truly happy with Erik. More so than when you were with Raoul and I thought you were pretty happy then too."

Christine rubbed her eyes and used a tissue to wipe her nose. "Are you saying I'm making a big deal out of this?"

"Well, you have a right. He did murder those women and that's not something that can easily be forgiven or forgotten; however, those women were the only ones that were publicized. That's probably why you feel so much guilt. They're everywhere in the news and you can't get away from their pictures."

Christine thought about it. "I… guess."

"And has Erik honestly hurt you? Besides the accidental biting and compulsion."

"No but…"

"Then what's the problem? Does he make you happy?" Meg interrupted.

"The problem is this Meg… what if the compulsion wasn't the first time? What if he compelled my feelings? I don't know if what I feel is really me or if it was him pulling the strings."

Meg stood up and began to walk around the room. "You have a point. And that is hard to prove."

"Which brings me back to square one. What am I doing?" Christine sighed and looked down at her hands. "I have a great track record so far when it comes to men, don't I?" She bitterly chuckled.

"Christine." Meg plopped herself back down on the mattress. "The best advice I can offer right now is this… listen to your heart. If Erik did control your feelings, then your mind will be trying to convince you that he's the best choice for you. And if it doesn't then…" She left the rest of that sentence hang in the air between them as the words sunk in.

Her friend had a point, but the other part was the one Christine was terrified to admit. What if it was her? What if, despite it all, she really did love Erik? Could she be with someone who murdered others and will more than likely kill again to feed? Could she ignore that there will always be victims? And what if he couldn't control himself around her? What if one day the demon inside of him snapped?

_Remember what Nadir said. Erik can't love without a soul._

What did that mean? If you don't possess a soul, then you can't feel anything? A lot of people argued that animals do not have souls, yet they love unconditionally. Of course, that was something Christine would argue saying it was preposterous. She believed they did have souls, but Erik was not an animal. He was once a man, now an undead one. Could a person still retain their soul?

She thought back to the music Erik wrote. How he could not have one with all those beautiful songs? A soulless being couldn't have written something that would bring tears to her eyes. There had to be some kind of feeling or emotion behind the inspiration.

None of this was making sense and it made Christine confused even more than before she came to Meg's home. Yet, her friend advised her to listen to her heart. If she did… what would she learn? And could she handle the truth if it was what she suspected?

Seeing the conflicted emotions on her friend's face, Meg said reassuringly, "If it helps, I think Erik will be good for you. Think about it. Look how romantic it is to have someone who has been around for centuries and they chose you as the one they want to be with. Face it Christine. That's a love that most women would be envious to have."

"You really think so?" Christine asked.

Meg nodded. "I want you to be happy. And seeing how Erik makes you happy, then why not give it a shot? What do you have to lose?"

_Perhaps too much. Even my life. _As Christine thought that, she couldn't deny that something wasn't sitting right with her. Forcing herself to hide her misgivings, Christine stood up.

"Thanks Meg. I needed to get that out. Well, I should head back home. I'm sure Van Helsing is clawing my cabinets as we speak."

Meg stood as well and smiled. "Okay. And Christine, you know you can talk to me anytime."

The brunette nodded slowly. "Right. I will see you later Meg."

Christine showed herself out and waved goodbye to Artie as she left the townhouse. Meg and Artie exchanged a look and she went over to the phone and dialed.

Clearing her throat, Meg waited for the line to be picked up. "Hello? It's me. Yes, yes. It's what you thought. That's exactly what I said… All right. I will. Thank you. Master."

TBC…

Dun dun dun! And also… before I get anyone to mention this… I'm not downplaying the importance of the victims. Trust me, a lot of this was something I would say and think about if I was in a situation where the man I'm in love with is a murderer. And if he's a vampire. I think Christine would be just as conflicted because you know what is right and wrong, and you want to say this is wrong and goodbye, but you can't for some reason. You want to think about the people who were killed and at the same time how the person could have done what he did. Hence the turmoil. Hopefully it makes sense. It does to me, lol.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: Hi everyone! I won't keep you long for this one, but thank you everyone for reading and reviewing! Enjoy! Don't forget to review!

**Chapter 26**

Christine returned home, but not to stay. Meg's behavior was… off and something didn't sit right with her. It could have been nothing, but she wasn't going to take another chance if she could help it.

Moving with lightning speed, Christine packed a bag with a couple of outfits, her hairbrush, toothbrush, some toiletries, cat food, and treats. The last item to grab was Van Helsing.

While she was doing this, Christine was careful not to make eye contact with the other apartment. Even though the curtains were closed, she still couldn't get over the feeling she was being watched and chills crawled down her spine.

The sooner she left, the better she would feel.

xxXXxx

The sharp pounding woke Raoul.

Groaning, he rolled over to check the time and cursed. He had only been asleep for about five minutes. The knocking continued and Raoul rolled to his feet and reached for his gun on his nightstand. He checked the chamber to see if it was loaded and went out.

Of course, the last person he expected to be on the other side of his door was standing there.

"Christine!" he exclaimed, throwing open the door. "What the—?"

"I didn't know where else to go and…" Her voice trailed off as she settled her gaze on the gun in his hand.

Raoul saw where she was looking, and cheeks reddened, he put the pistol in the band of his pants. "Sorry about that. It's best to be careful and everything."

"Yeah," she said, agreeing.

He took a step back. "Come on in. Let me help you with that." Raoul took her bag from her shoulder as she was busy holding onto Van Helsing. Once they were inside, he checked the hall to see if the coast was clear before closing and locking the door.

Christine turned around and smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you Raoul. If you said no, I would have understood."

"Don't think that. Never," he told her. "You know you're always welcome. Have to admit, though, I am surprised to find you at my doorstep."

She laughed with a bit of an ironic edge to it. "Life is full of surprises it turns out to be."

He led her over to the couch as she sat down and let Van Helsing go. The cat leapt from her grasp and began to roam around the apartment. Raoul shook his head and took a seat across her in his chair and set her bag down next to his feet. He also took the gun and set it on the coffee table.

"You want to tell me what happened?"

Christine looked at him and he could see the exhaustion that was creeping up on her. "I'm sorry Raoul. I need to get some rest first. I will tell you everything tomorrow, I promise. I need… I need a break. Once I get some sleep, I'll be able to think clearly."

Raoul nodded understandingly. "Sure, of course. You can take my bed. I'll get the couch."

Christine arched her brow. "Raoul, no… I couldn't—"

"Don't argue." He held his hand up. "Take it. You looked like you've been to Hell and back. I'm good out here."

She gave him an appreciative smile. "Thank you again Raoul. This means a lot to me. It does. Night."

She went over and scooped up Van Helsing before exiting to the bedroom. Once the door was closed, Raoul noticed she forgot her bag. He lifted it and went over and softly tapped on the door. He couldn't hear a response, and chancing that she may not mind, he carefully opened the door to find Christine was already out cold.

_I guess the trip to Hell and back was literally_, he thought and set the bag down by his dresser. He gave her one last fleeting look before he left the room.

Walking back to the couch, Raoul made sure his weapon was in arm's length before he laid his head on the armrest and promptly fell asleep.

xxXXxx

The next morning Christine woke feeling wretched than ever. Even though she was out once her head touched the pillow, she had a hard time staying asleep the whole night. Several times she woke up in a furious sweat every time she heard a sound.

She was half-expecting to wake and find Erik standing in the corner of the room. She would then remember that Erik probably needed an invitation to come in, and Raoul was not offering one that much was obvious. And thinking of Raoul, she knew he was out in the living room with his gun and that made her feel safe. She didn't know if the bullets would harm Erik, but the idea gave her a peace enough mind to allow her to fall back asleep.

Until she heard another creak or groan.

Sighing, she laid back on the pillow as Van Helsing stretched and burrowed his head into her side as he slept. He was the lucky one who was not aware of the danger that was going on and she was jealous he could sleep peacefully.

_Damn cat_, she thought.

She stared up at the ceiling and knew she had been fortunate that Raoul allowed them to spend the night. She didn't want to assume he would, not after the arguments they had the past couple of weeks. But one thing that was for certain was Raoul was a gentleman. Whether it was honor or the right thing to do, Raoul did let her and Van Helsing stay and she wasn't sure how she could ever repay him for that act of kindness.

Christine knew Raoul would want to know the truth and she was dreading the moment it was coming. Not only because she knew he would not like what she had to say, but also she was fearful on what he might do as a result. Raoul had always been level-headed and rational; impulsive wouldn't be how she described him, but when it came to someone he cared about and this being not a normal situation, who knew how he would react?

The last thing she wanted was for Raoul to go out and confront Erik. She shuddered at the thought of how the victor would emerge. There would be no friendly diplomacy that was for certain. And the last thing she wanted was more bloodshed on her behalf.

But she knew she owed Raoul the truth. After all, he had tried warning her and she chose not to believe a single word. The least she could do was to tell him he had been right all along.

Why? Why was this happening? Why her? She wasn't anyone special, but the past events seemed to say otherwise and she couldn't believe how this was blown out of proportion. Couldn't they see she wasn't worth the trouble?

Yet, both did… And it made this all the more harder.

Images of Erik flashed in her mind and she began to weep. God helped her… She loved him. Despite what he did, her heart and soul yearned for him; her body desiring his touch.

She knew she should be disgusted and want to stay far away from him, but she wasn't and she wanted to be at his side.

She was messed up and confused.

Being with Erik meant she accepted his bloodlust, accepting the murders, and accepting future murders as well. Could she really have that knowledge on her conscience? Would that tarnish her soul to know innocents would meet their end just so Erik could live?

Christine wept for him and she wept at the irony of the situation. Throughout her life, she adored vampires and had dreamt of becoming one. Of course, that was because she was a teenager and she went through that phase that a vampire's life would be much more glamorous than her own. She sympathized with the supernatural beings and she rooted for them in her books and movies to get the girl or the guy.

Now…

Now, she was in the same predicament that her favorite characters were in and she was torn.

In the world of fantasy, everything worked itself out so well and everyone had their happy endings. But this was reality where rules existed and choices have severe consequences. So the bigger question remained:

Should she stay or should she leave?

And she had no idea what the right answer should be.

Van Helsing's body twitched and it wasn't long before he started to paw at her that he wanted food now. Getting up now meant she would have to have that talk with Raoul.

_Time to face the music. There's no way to avoid it now._

Christine got up and found Raoul was already awake and making breakfast for them.

"Morning," he greeted. "I'm making pancakes. How many do you want?"

"Four because I really need the carbs."

He chuckled. "You bet. Chocolate chips?"

"Is there any better way to have them?" Christine grinned as he took out a bag of chocolate chips and mixed them in the batter. It was something she always loved on her pancakes and waffles, which Raoul had teased her about it, but she didn't care. And he always kept an extra bag of chips for her just in case.

She forgot how thoughtful he could be and it brought tears to her eyes knowing what she had to say would crush him.

Fighting it back, she busied herself in preparing Van Helsing his breakfast. Once the can was opened and the food was in a bowl, the cat went about eating happily as the former couple sat down to eat.

They passed the time with small talk being careful not to bring up what was really on their minds just yet. It was a delicate subject that needed to be eased into and rushing it was not a good idea. When they finished eating, Christine volunteered to do the dishes, but Raoul reached out and touched her hand to keep her from walking away.

The inevitable had arrived.

Christine sat back down and stared at her empty plate. Seeing that she was not going to be the first to speak, Raoul took the initiative.

"Christine, last night you came to me frightened. Something happened I can gather that much. And it's about Erik, right?"

Christine felt the tears prick behind her eyes again. "Yes," she whispered.

Raoul let out a shaky sigh. "Tell me. Even if I don't want to hear the details, tell me anyways."

Christine took a deep breath. She knew this was going to break his heart, but she went ahead and told him.

"I confronted Erik. He told me everything and you were right. He is a vampire and he killed those women. And… and he did this." She had been careful at night and this morning to hide her neck from Raoul, but the moment of truth came, and she moved her hair so he could see the marks.

She watched as the muscles in his jaw clenched and his knuckles turned white from gripping the table's edge. "Jesus fucking Christ."

"I met Nadir Khan too," she went on, gaining the strength she needed to finish this. "I will admit he has an unorthodox way of handling things, but he told me enough that it became harder for me to refute and ignore. He told me all there was about Erik and vampires that I'm so confused and scared and I don't know what to do."

Christine looked down and then back up at Raoul. "I can't believe my boyfriend is a vampire."

Raoul narrowed his eyes at the mention of "boyfriend" but he kept his mouth shut. He knew this might happen if Christine found out… that was if she even wanted to believe it. And clearly her mind was quickly changed, but she was lost and that pained him to see that.

"So Nadir told you, huh? Did he tell you about his family?"

"No." She frowned. "What happened?"

Raoul hesitated, thinking that Nadir would have told her the same thing he told him and Seward. That would have fallen under the topic of everything on Erik. "His family was murdered while he was on a hunt. He believes… no, he knows Erik was responsible for it. It was a message to leave him alone."

Christine gasped and covered her mouth. She couldn't believe Erik would do that. Then again, should she even be surprised? Right now, she had no idea what to think anymore as her world was turned upside down.

"You know… I still don't want to believe it. I keep thinking that this is a bad dream and I will wake up and find it was all nonsense. Silly isn't it?"

"No." Raoul got up and walked around the table and squatted by her, taking her hand in his. Looking up, he added, "I don't think it's silly to want that. I feel the same way too. I think I will find out that this was all more of an active over-imagination after working too many long hours."

"Yeah. I guess it's funny that we both want that, but it's never going to happen."

"Well, we have to hope it does get better. Who knows what could happen?"

"I know, but Raoul…" She bit her lower lip. "I want to believe there is some good in him. I have seen him being capable of doing good. His music—"

"Christine," he gently interrupted. "There isn't. It's a trick to make you believe he can be good. But the truth is… he's a killer."

"What if it's not?" she asked, half begging for it to be possible. "What if Erik can be good?"

"That's a big if. The fact remains, Christine, he murdered those women. And there will be more, and it could be you next."

Christine trembled at his words knowing Raoul was right. She could very well be next if Erik's demon decided to get rid of her. She knew that, yet she wanted to believe the Erik she knew long before this happened. He wouldn't let that happen, but the memory of seeing the demon exposed to her sent another wave of chills down her spine.

"I know."

Raoul stood up. "I'm going to call into work—don't argue—and I'm going to stay with you. Perhaps, Nadir will know what to do."

Christine gulped. "Raoul. Does… Do you have to kill him?"

He gave her a knowing look. "It's for the best. He's a monster Christine. If we want to protect the city and you… we have to do what we must. I know it's hard to stomach, but you will. Give it some time and you will see that this is the only option."

_The only option… God! Why did I ever meet you Erik?_

xxXXxx

Harker wasn't happy that Raoul called in during a crisis and gave him a few choice words for doing so. He waited until his Captain was done before Raoul said he had a very good reason for doing this as he had a strong lead on a possible suspect, but it needed to be handed delicately.

That seemed to calm Harker down and he ordered him that he wanted to be updated on the developments, which Raoul said he would. After he hung up with the Captain, he called Nadir to tell him about Christine. All he got was the Persian's voicemail and left a quick message to have him call him back.

Seeing there was nothing else for him to do until Nadir called back, Raoul went out to join Christine in the living room. He went over to his DVDs and turned to her with his brow raised.

"So what it would be… _Three Amigos! _or _X-Men_?"

xxXXxx

They spent the day taking turns watching comedies and action films. It felt good to laugh when everything was so serious and the thought of death wasn't far. However, Christine had very little to say to him, except for what she wanted to eat for lunch and what movie they should watch next.

Raoul knew she had to be upset when he told her they would have to kill Erik. Hell, not even his boss knew that was the plan to apprehend the suspect. Nadir had told him and Seward that they had to keep it hushed up or else someone who did not know the situation would be sticking their nose where it didn't belong and wind up dead. But Raoul couldn't keep the Captain in the dark forever.

He took a couple of breaks to call Harker to tell him what he knew so far, which he kept it basic and not too informative. All he told him was that he got a name—Erik—no last name, but he had been seen with Lucy Hale. It wasn't as much as Harker had hoped to hear, but he told Raoul to stay on it and get back to him when he had enough to nail the guy.

Little did he know, Raoul was going to keep this from his superiors. He hadn't thought of a story that was good enough to cover up Erik's demise. He wasn't sure if there would be a body to bring in and the cause of death would be suspicious if there was a body and people saw it riddled with silver bullets and wooden stakes. He didn't know what he would say, but when the time came, Raoul would think of something that would hopefully be plausible.

Once it started to get dusky out, Nadir called back. Raoul excused himself and took the call in his bedroom.

"Sorry I didn't get to you sooner. I was sleeping," Nadir said once Raoul was alone.

"Sleeping? The whole day?"

"Yes Mr. de Chagny," the man replied with annoyance. "As I hunt the beasts my clock needs to beat in their time. Now what is it?"

"It's Christine. She's here with me and… she believes us now."

The other man muttered a quick thanks to Allah. "I'm glad to hear that."

"Yes and she mentioned you had an unorthodox way of handling it too. What exactly happened between you two?" Raoul asked.

"If she didn't tell you, then it is no matter. The point is she now knows what Erik is."

Raoul sighed. "Fine, but there's more. She went to Erik and he confirmed it."

"I figured much," Nadir said. "The poor girl's lost. Torn by which loyalty to follow. As long as she stays away from him, then she will have a fighting chance to break his hold."

"Do you think she will be all right? This is taking its toll on her."

"I wish I knew, my young friend. Most victims end up losing their lives when it comes to the vampire. It is cunning and his attention to her is most unsettling in any case I ever stumbled upon. I fear to think of the plans he has in stored for her."

_Me too_, Raoul thought in agreement. "What should I do?"

"Keep her there with you. She's going to need someone to stay by her. But listen carefully. She will do whatever she can to return to him. She may know of the horrors and sins he committed, but she will feel bound to him and going back will seem like the right thing to do. You will fight her, but you cannot let her out of your sight. I will come over once I'm dressed and see if I can try to break the influence. Is that clear?"

Raoul said it was, and knew he should get back to her right away. She was alone now and he didn't want to think she would make a move out of there right away. He hung up and went back out into the room.

xxXXxx

While Raoul was in the bedroom, Christine knew she was being unreasonable and childish with her silent treatment, but the idea of killing Erik left a sour taste in her mouth.

She didn't want that for him. No one deserved that fate. And she couldn't shake the feeling that she was feeling homesick. She wanted to go home, she wanted to sing, and she wanted to see Erik…

_No! _she told herself. _You don't want to go back. You can't! He's—_

_**Christine**_.

She jumped, looking around in the room and seeing it was empty. The voice… it sounded so near as if it came from the room itself. But that wasn't possible. Raoul was in the bedroom and Van Helsing was curled up on the chair.

_Get a hold of yourself, Christine_, she thought. _He's not here. He's not here._

As she thought this, she heard the voice again. And this time, it was coming from her mind.

_**Christine… come to me… Come to me my angel… My Angel of Music… come to me… **_

She stood and started to walk out the door.

TBC…


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: I hope this wait was worth it. *evil grins* We will be enlightened on what has happened, and I mean, what has really happened between Erik and Christine. If it sounds confusing remember… Erik compelled Christine so her memories from the past chapters will not match up with the actual events.

Thank you everyone for reviewing and for making this your favorite story—24 so far. I like to compete with myself so this story needs one more to tie with _The Butterfly_. No pressure of course.

Also, I want to dedicate this chapter to a special person who just recently lost their battle with cancer. He was only 14 and his life has touched the lives of so many who knew him and my heart goes out to his friends and family. May he suffer no more.

**Chapter 27**

He froze in the doorway, a chill sliding down his spine and tightened around his heart.

Christine wasn't in the room.

_Okay. Don't jump to conclusions. Maybe… maybe she's in the bathroom_, he thought and added, _I hope_.

"Christine?" Raoul called, stepping inside. Van Helsing was lying on the couch next to where Christine had been sitting. The black cat gazed at him with his cool yellow eyes and yawned as if bored by this scene. "Christine!" He said this time with more urgency when he got no reply.

A drop of sweat went down his side as Raoul went from room to room, throwing open the doors, and looking for his ex-girlfriend. By the time he was standing back in the middle of the living room, the TV showing Anthony Stewart Head singing "It's a Thankless Job" ringing in his ears; Raoul's chest clenched as he breathed through his mouth, taking huge gulps of air as a cold sweat covered his forehead.

Christine was _gone_.

Nadir told him to keep her in his sights and he failed to do that seemingly obvious task. _It _had found her and took her and Raoul would be damned if he let that monster win.

Nadir's earlier warnings about not going after it were pushed in the back of his head as Raoul ran to grab his gun. He took some extra casings, just in case, and pulled out his grandmother's crucifix. He slipped the chain over his head and tucked the silver cross under his shirt. He was going to go after that son of a bitch and bring Christine back.

Raoul slammed the door behind him and started running down the hall to the stairwell. He skipped a couple of steps as he flew down them to the first level. He charged through the lobby and just as he opened the door to the city, he nearly ran into Nadir.

The Persian held his hands out to steady himself from almost being run over by the frantic-looking young man and right away knew something was terribly wrong. Without having to ask, Nadir narrowed his eyes. "The girl's missing." It wasn't a question, but a statement and one look in the officer's face confirmed it all. "Damnit! I told you to keep an eye on her!"

Raoul issued a profane name choice at the Persian. "You don't think I know that? You're wasting my time just telling me so!" Raoul shoved the man not too subtly to the side so he could find Christine. Nadir was right behind him, knowing the young man was a fool in going after the creature without backup. Yet, their concerns were for nothing when Christine walked out of a coffee shop that was a block from Raoul's building.

Her eyebrows were raised in surprise as both men, panting, stopped and stared at her in disbelief. "Whoa. Where's the fire?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood with a chuckle.

Raoul's jaw snapped shut as he closed his eyes and slowly counted to five. "Christine… don't you ever… _fucking do that again_."

Now, her teasing smile left her face. "Excuse me?"

Nadir went over and lightly gripped her arm and tugged her towards the direction of Raoul's home. "Come along with us and I will explain," he said, shooting a glare at Raoul.

As they walked back to the apartment, Nadir calmly explained to Christine the dangers of her going off on her own. The bewildered singer looked from Raoul to the Persian. "You thought Erik took me?"

"Consider the situation, yes," Raoul retorted sarcastically. "I almost had a heart attack Christine when I didn't find you in the living room."

"Sorry but I was craving a mocha latte," she replied in a snarky tone. "Forgive my caffeine addiction."

Nadir cleared his throat, interrupting the young couple from bickering louder. "Yes, well, in the future, Miss Daaé, we shall keep that caffeine addiction closer to home."

She muttered something under her breath, but she relented and nodded. "Fine. I promise I won't go to another Starbucks without being accompanied, okay?"

It would do… for now.

Once they made it to the building and they took the stairs up, Christine turned to Raoul and murmured in a low voice, "Mind telling me what he's doing here? Besides ganging up on me about my coffee trips?"

He sighed. "He's here to help us. Face it Christine. He's our only hope."

"Okay Princess Leia," she mumbled, which he rolled his eyes.

Nadir overheard them and shook his head. _Oh Allah. Give me the strength to help these children._

Raoul unlocked his door for them and once they were safely inside, Nadir did a sweep of the entire apartment. The couple looked at each other, not sure what to make of the man's behavior, but Nadir emerged a few minutes later and declared, "We need to make this place properly secured. Locks on the windows and doors are not going to cut it alone."

"What do you suggest?" Raoul asked, crossing his arms over. "Garlic and crosses?"

Nadir smirked. "As a start, yes. Minus the garlic. That's a myth. Thankfully, I came prepared."

It was then the couple noticed he had a bag concealed under his long coat. Nadir took the jacket off and tossed it on the nearest chair, and then moved the strap over his head and unzipped the bag.

"The devil is a clever son of a bitch and we need to take every precaution necessary. I have some provisions that will safeguard your home. Now, come. I will need both of your help."

Nadir pulled out bottles of holy water, crosses, rosaries, hammer and nails, and three spray bottles filled with an unusual coloring. Off their questioning looks, Nadir responded, "Silver concentration. Made it myself. All you have to do is spray it at any opening and it will burn the touched ones and it."

"The touched ones?" Christine repeated as Nadir nodded. "Yes. It's referring to the poor humans who have exchanged blood with the vampire. It's a method of siring to ensure complete control over a person until the vampire is done with their usefulness."

"What happens after?" she asked as she bent down to pick up one of the spray bottles.

"Well, either the vampire chooses to end the bond with a word or," Nadir's tone switched to a grim one. "The vampire kills them, which is always the case."

"Wouldn't that bring them back as one?" Raoul asked while Nadir pulled out a cartridge of silver bullets.

"Here. I made these for your gun as well," the Persian told him. "And to your question, no. Not unless the vampire wishes for its human servants to become one, which is highly unlikely. They will simply destroy the body so there would be no chance of the person returning as the undead."

Christine swallowed hard as she thought about poor Joseph Buquet. She hoped in her heart that Erik would not kill him… but the way Nadir said the chances were more than likely death would be inevitable. No! She couldn't believe Erik would do that. Or would he?

She felt the stirrings of a headache approaching, but the Persian was already issuing out instructions and orders about what needed to be done around the apartment. So they went around the apartment tying the rosaries around the doorknobs, nailing the crosses on the walls and doors, as well as spraying Nadir's concoction around the windows and the doorknobs too as extra protection. As for the holy water, Nadir used it to bless each room and sprayed some on the windows too.

Every time they finished a room and moved to the next one, Christine felt like a part of herself was breaking off. It would be this searing pain that would hit her suddenly and then fade, but it would leave her heart throbbing. By the time they were halfway done, Christine had to take a break because she had difficult time breathing.

Raoul was worried when her face became flushed and she began to shake uncontrollably. Nadir patted the young man's shoulder in reassurance, telling him, "It's the influence that is leaving her. Think of it as a way an addicted person goes through withdrawal. We are putting up all these defenses, and in turn, it is putting distance between her and _it_. Don't worry. She will be fine once we are done."

"Do you think he knows?" he whispered.

The hunter nodded. "Oh he knows. It's a connection. So whatever pain she's experiencing, trust me, he will feel as well."

The men went on and finished without her help, but Christine couldn't shake away Nadir's words. So Erik was experiencing this soul-tearing agony too? Did he think she was betraying him? Was she?

She looked around with all the objects that could prevent Erik from coming in, and knew she was being naïve if she thought it wasn't. Of course she was betraying Erik. She was pushing him out of her mind by staying under Raoul and Nadir's protection. And… instead of feeling exulted, she felt so _empty_. It was like a part of her was missing.

And she had to wonder… did she truly feel this way or was it some sort of affect from Erik's manipulation?

She had no clue and it hurt that it could be both and she wasn't sure which was right.

Nadir did check her out to make sure she was all right. He brought some medical tools along and a mini flashlight. He checked her pulse, her breathing, her eyes, and then the marks.

"They're healing nicely, but it will leave a scar," he told her, which Christine suspected would happen. "You are not as pale when we first met so your blood is replenishing itself. In a week you will be back to normal."

Raoul let out a sigh of relief and Christine smiled as well. That was good news indeed.

"But you do want to be careful. Another significant blood loss will be damaging, but of course, we will make sure that does not happen. It is a good thing it stopped when it did. Although, a next time could prove to be fatal."

"Do you think so?" she asked.

Nadir nodded. "Control is difficult, my dear. Even for a vampire as old as it."

That did little to comfort her, but Christine rubbed her arms while she felt a slight chill in the air. "Could you stop referring Erik as 'it'? He might be a vampire, but his gender hasn't changed."

"I can make no promises, but I will try around you. Is that all right?"

It was the best she was going to get from him so she agreed. She hated that the Persian would always call Erik anything but his name and saying he was an "it" was a form of degradation. Erik was Erik and that wasn't going to change her opinion of him or what he was. It didn't help that Raoul adopted this way of talking when it came to him. And judging by the look on his face… he wasn't going to censor his feelings about Erik.

"Now that's settled. There is one last thing I need to do and Miss Daaé… I will require your permission."

"What is it?" she questioned tentatively.

"I need to check your mind. To see how much manipulation he has done to you."

"Why?" she said quickly. "I mean, we know he did. That's how I realized I was covering my neck up."

"Yes but that is one situation. There could be more that you are not aware of and this will help bring those memories back."

"I will remember it?" she repeated.

"You will remember everything. But you also need to be completely honest with me. If you cannot help me, then I cannot help you. Is that understood?"

She mutely nodded and Raoul asked how he intended to do this. "Hypnosis. I know what you're thinking, but believe me, this is the best way to find out what the fiend has done. Compulsion is mind control and the only way to know the truth is with a little manipulation on my part. Hypnosis will put her under a state of awareness and she will have access to what is normally blocked." Nadir looked at Christine and added, "This will bring back anything unpleasant, mind you. And at any point if it becomes too much, I will stop the session immediately."

This was a lot the Persian was asking from her and Christine had a mental debate if she should allow him to hypnotize her. She had heard that people who were susceptible could be opened to any influences and it could become too vivid or uncensored depending on the questions. But this could be her chance to know once and for all if Erik had done anything else to her. She didn't think he would have, but once again her self-doubts started up about the marks and if he did that then he had to have done something else too.

"Okay. I'll do it. You will stop if I can't handle it, right?" she asked, wanting to make sure they were clear on that issue.

"You have my word."

Raoul looked at both and shook his head. "I can't believe this is happening, but what the Hell. If we can get some answers, then I'm for it."

"Thank you for your input Mr. de Chagny, but I'm afraid the only permission I need is from Miss Daaé," Nadir said firmly. The young man narrowed his gaze and went to the kitchen table so he could keep an eye on what the Persian did. His trust in the strange man was limited, but he couldn't deny he was curious.

Nadir had Christine sit on the sofa where she would be more comfortable and he took a seat on the coffee table.

"All right Miss Daaé, I want you to close your eyes… good… now listen to the sound of my voice. Relax… just put out all thoughts in your head… clear your mind… Relax… Breathe in slowly and deep… Breathe… Now as I count to ten you will get sleepy and when I snap my fingers you will tell me what happened with Erik. One… two… three… four… five…"

Raoul watched in amazement as Christine's head slumped over her shoulders. He couldn't see her expression so he quietly stood and walked back around so he could see this. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing in and out, but her breaths were slow and short. She was under all right.

"…nine… ten," Nadir said softly and snapped his fingers.

Christine's head rolled back up, her eyes still shut, and she sat very still.

"Good. Can you tell me your name?"

"Christine Ann Daaé."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-seven."

"What year is it?"

"2011."

Nadir continued with some other basic questions until he was satisfied that Christine was ready for the tougher questions. Of course, Raoul didn't know what to expect from this. He knew that the Persian would be asking serious questions and her responses would be answers he didn't want to hear, but he had to stay. For her. Christine would need the support after this and he already left her enough and he wasn't going to leave this time.

He prepared himself for that but no one can really guess what would be said and the unknown was what terrified Raoul.

"Now, Miss Daaé, I want you to think back to the night before you were sick. Tell me what happened that night."

"I'm singing at Box Five. I can't wait to get home."

"Why?"

A soft, loving grin played on her lips. "Erik. I get to see Erik."

"What happened when you went home?"

"Erik was waiting for me on the balcony. I invited him inside and we are instantly in each other's arms. I don't know who moved first, but we are wrapped up in one another and kissing. I have never felt this way before about anyone. There is so much heat that I feel like I'm on fire. I never felt passion like this and it's so wonderful."

Her words were making Raoul uncomfortable, but Nadir didn't seem fazed by it. Of course, this was his ex that was speaking about another man… _vampire_.

"Go on."

"He's kissing my neck. He does that a lot. He has to be a neck guy, but I don't mind. It feels too good and—" Christine's voice cut off, her hand going up to her throat as a pained look came over her. "Pain. We were kissing and it felt nice but the pain is sharp and I-I think he bit me. My throat hurts… it's burning… and nothing. I-I passed out and I feel shaking and an urgent voice. It's Erik… He looks horrified and he says he's sorry, and then…" Christine whimpered. "I don't remember after that."

"Try harder," Nadir ordered. "What happened after you came to? What did he do?"

Her face squinted as if she was reaching for something, but she shook her head. "Nothing. I don't remember until I wake up and he's gone."

"You can do this Miss Daaé. Fight the compulsion. Bring that memory back. What did he say after he apologized? Think harder!"

"H-he hurt me," she said at last, licking her lips. "I know he did. My throat… I touched it and blood… there was blood… I looked at him but he's looking at my blood… there's something in his eyes… hunger. He's on me again… the pain comes back and I'm trying to push him off of me, but he's too strong! I'm falling… I can't… I can't fight… I'm pinned and I'm going to die… I don't know how I knew this but he's killing me…"

Christine gasped her breathing labored as the memories came rushing back. "He pulls back… my blood is on his lips and his mask… he sees and he takes my face in his hands. I want to sleep… I want to close my eyes, but he's shaking me and forcing me to look… his eyes… always this blue are now… they look gold like molten amber, but that can't be right. And he's speaking to me… He's telling me that everything's going to be all right and I'll be fine. He sings and I no longer want to sleep. I hear his voice… my Erik. I know I don't have to be afraid and he's murmuring something… He's telling me to forget this happened. That tomorrow when I dress I want to cover my neck and will continue that for a week. I don't want to see my neck and I won't look at it. I will remember that I got sick and I will forget about the pain and the blood… I drift off to sleep."

Nadir stole a quick glance at Raoul and the young man had gone completely ashen. But the hunter knew if Erik did this one to her… there were other ones. If the boy cared for her, then he will have to do his best and remain there no matter what.

Turning back to Christine, Nadir took a deep breath. "Has Erik done this to you another time?"

"I don't know."

"Was there anything Erik told you to forget?"

Her expression frowned and then she nodded. "Yes… if I were to hear from Raoul… I would delete his messages when I hear his voice."

"And if you saw him face to face?"

"It wouldn't happen because I didn't want to see him."

Nadir looked back at Raoul who was now seething. "Well, at least he didn't compel her not to come to you. That was her free will."

"Doesn't matter," the man said between his teeth. "It explains why she didn't return my calls. I thought it was because she might have been mad at me still."

"Did Erik tell you to do anything else? Something against your will?"

At this, her face reddened. "My dressing room. I confronted him about who he was and if he killed those women… he was so angry. I never saw him like that before. Not when I first kissed him. This was different. He didn't deny it or argue. He did those things and… and…"

"Go on. Tell me Christine. Tell me everything."

"He was brutal, selfish. He bruised my lips with his kiss and he pushed me against the table…"

She went into details about the assault and how she later admitted she wanted him badly, despite the violence that occurred between them. When Erik compelled her to hold her hands out while his face transformed… Raoul had to walk away, but not far. He went to the opposite side of the room where he punched the wall. The sudden bang caused Christine to jump, but she was still under the hypnotic state and Nadir quickly yelled at Raoul to control his emotions.

Raoul tried… but to hear that. Of all things. He knew or _suspected _what would have happened. He wasn't naïve to think Christine wouldn't sleep with Erik, and she wasn't the type to jump into bed with anyone. She clearly felt something for him and it hurt Raoul to know that… but wait. The compulsion… Erik could have easily forced it in her mind that she loved him and what happened as a result would still be rape. It was rape of the mind and body.

Raoul went back and in between breaths he asked, "Did he tell you to love him?"

Nadir knew his heart was driving him now with that question, but he didn't stop him.

"Did Erik tell you, you had to love him?"

Christine pursed her lips. "I-I don't know. I don't remember."

Losing his temper, Raoul gripped her shoulders and shook her. "Don't protect him Christine! Did he make you love him?!"

Nadir seized him and yanked him away from the distraught girl. Quickly, Nadir said, "When I snap my fingers, you will wake. One… two… three…" He snapped them and Christine's eyes flew opened at the rush of memories. She remembered now… She remembered everything… And she got up and ran to the bedroom to collect her thoughts.

Meanwhile, Nadir was dragging Raoul away from her. "What the Hell were you thinking?" the Persian hissed while the cop glared at him.

"What did you think? I was getting answers."

"Not like that. Don't you know the affects that could have happened for grabbing her like that? You were lucky that she came out of it."

"Did you not hear what she said what he did to her? I can't believe you are brushing it off. It's so clear that he was using her the sick fucker."

"Mr. de Chagny, if you have it out of your system, let me speak. It is horrible but what done is done. The important thing is that it had compelled her and now she knows."

"And what will that do?"

"It is now up to Miss Daaé to do the right thing. What it did to her was unforgivable and it was violation pure and simple. She will see that now and his power will not sway her any longer. As long as the mind is aware, then she will fight him. And we will have it where we want it."

xxXXxx

Christine sighed and closed the door after opening it just a crack so she could hear what the men had to say. They spoke in a low volume, but she did catch the Persian's words.

It was true. Her mind was aware of everything that occurred between her and Erik. She knew the truth of their relationship and his power will have nothing to do with her decision. That was only hers and hers alone to make.

And she will fight.

TBC…

What will Christine fight for? Is her love for Erik real or an illusion? All these questions will be answered and more later on in the story.

As for those who are looking for more Erik action… I apologize. But if you want to read some great Erik and Christine moments, then check out my other story _Heaven by the Sea_. It is nonstop Erik and Christine with a dash of drama, suspense, and mystery.


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: Here we go! As always, thank you for the wonderful support and a special shout-out to mochici-chan for making this story #25 on the favorites. It is now tied with my story _The Butterfly_. Thank you!

Well, as you know, I am an evil person but I do deliver on my stories. I can't help it with the cliffhangers, but this is a fair warning for what will come. Hee hee.

DanceDance- the reason Nadir did not hypnotize Christine when they first met was the fact he did not have enough time to do so. Plus, he wanted to gain her trust first before he does something like that. That way she was willing to do it rather than being forced to.

**Chapter 28**

That night Christine did sleep somewhat better and she was feeling like her old self again. She supposed she had to thank the Persian for clarifying things up for her. At least, it made her choice easier to make.

She ran her hand over the healing marks and she felt the slight rise of the skin to know the scar was coming in. As she touched it, a shudder went over her body. Yes she knew what she had to do and it was time to settle things.

When she opened the door, she had to be careful as the men were sleeping in the living room. The curtains were pulled and it was still dark out so she made sure not to accidentally step on Raoul as Nadir took the couch. But when she lifted her eyes she saw that Raoul was already sitting at the kitchen table. The light from microwave above the stove was on just to provide some light to move around.

As she approached the table, she saw his face was grim and the bags under his eyes were dark and puffy. One look and she knew he didn't get much sleep. He had a mug of coffee in his hand, but it was still full.

Christine went to the counter and got a mug from the cabinet and poured herself a cup. Then she slid into the seat next to him.

"Morning Raoul," she greeted softly.

Raoul jerked awake, noticing her presence and gave her a thin smile. "Morning. How'd you sleep? I see the marks are better."

"Yeah," she said, rubbing the spot again. "I slept all right, but you don't look so hot."

Raoul chuckled bitterly and took a sip of his coffee. "I couldn't sleep. I had so much on my mind."

She looked down, knowing exactly what he meant. She remembered what she said and though she was ashamed to say it aloud, she hated that Raoul had to find out that way. Of course, she would have preferred if he never found out at all, but c'est la vie.

"Raoul—"

"Fuck Christine, where did you meet him?" he asked a pained tone in his voice.

"It happen Raoul. I know it was hard for you to hear that. Believe me… I didn't realize the kind of details I would have given under the influence. If I knew, I would have…"

"Sugarcoat it? Or not say at all? Thanks Chris, but as much as it tortured me to know what that _thing _did to you, I know now. At least I didn't have to keep wondering like I did ever since I knew Erik was the one I'm after."

"I am sorry you had to hear it."

"Me too," he said quietly and rolled the coffee in his mug. "I can't get it out of my head. I close my eyes and I see him hurting you… and I'm standing there and there's nothing I can do."

"It's not your fault."

"Isn't it? I pushed you away when it was the last thing I wanted to do. I wasn't there when you needed me. And what I said to you about your career… I was such a dick! I don't know why I said those things, there's no excuse, but that's not how I feel. I know you will be discovered. How can you not? You have an amazing voice."

Christine smiled. "You're right. You were a dick and so you know… I did have some offers but Angus chased them away so he could keep me longer."

Raoul winced. "We're both dicks, huh?"

"Yeah, well, you're not the only ones. Even the undead variety can be dicks too."

That earned her a laugh from him. "Boy, you know how to pick them."

"Tell me about it." She rolled her eyes. "But Raoul… if things were different… Well, to be truthful, I don't know. Even if we had worked it out and were together I think Erik would find a way to come into my life."

At this his look hardened. "That's obvious. Since he thinks you're his dead girlfriend."

"I don't think that's why. Maybe a little… at first. But not now. Erik said I'm not like her."

"And you believe that? Christine, that thing is not a man."

"Of course I believe it," she shot back. "That much is true. And both you and Nadir can say what you will, but Erik is a man. How can you be so quick to dismiss that he could be? You used to have an open mind."

"I do have an open mind, but this is different Christine. He's not normal."

"I'll grant you that. But so what if he's different? He's exists, doesn't he? Shouldn't that be enough to make you wonder that maybe not everything is black and white? There are shades of gray."

"I know that. You don't have to tell me."

"Then why are you acting like it isn't even there? Your job is to look at the evidence on both sides and determine if the guilty is guilty."

"My job is also to protect and serve," he retorted. "He doesn't have much sympathy from me."

"Maybe that's what's wrong," she said calmly. "You don't see him. You see the actions. Yes, it was wrong and it was a crime, but there's more to him Raoul. You have to understand where he's coming from. This wasn't his decision to become this."

"How do you know?"

"I just have this feeling. He regrets killing Christiana. Her death made him lose the music in his soul. And after he met me… he got it back. If you could only hear his songs, then you would know what I'm talking about."

"Christine, he still killed. I don't care if he was the biggest philanthropist. The fact remains he committed murder and I swore an oath."

They both stared at each other and neither was going to back down on this. Finally, Raoul broke away and said, "This has to the most we ever argued. And over a vampire too." He started to laugh, and Christine chuckled as well.

"You're right. I guess it's something you never thought you would say."

"That's true." Both were smiling while Nadir let out a soft snore. "We should try to keep it down," Raoul said while she nodded in agreement. The last thing they wanted was a third wheel to join the conversation. And they knew where Nadir stood on the issue of Erik. "But seriously," Raoul added. "What went wrong?"

"That's the million dollar question, isn't it?" she answered. "Even if Erik wasn't in the picture we were heading down that road."

Raoul shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. If we did, then we would have worked it out after I did a lot of groveling and making up."

"Oh yeah," she admitted. "Lots and lots. At least a year's worth."

"Could we?" Raoul said.

"Could we what?" she repeated.

"Work it out. I don't mean right now, but after?"

Christine sighed. She had a feeling it would lead into this. Perhaps in a different time she would have considered the option, but she knew that she and Raoul would never have worked out. Even if she never met Erik, Christine knew in her heart that eventually she and Raoul would have broken up. She saw that now, but he didn't. "Raoul…"

"We should at least try. Seven years is a long time to put into a relationship and to walk away could be a mistake."

"Yes it is Raoul but you need to understand. I love Erik."

"No you don't," he said abruptly. "He compelled you to think you do. It's not real."

"I thought so too but now I know it's not. He loves me Raoul. Not Christiana, but me Christine. I love him. It's all me not mind control."

Raoul shook his head, fist clenching. "No he compelled you. Don't you see? He hurt you and you came running to me. Obviously, you knew something wasn't right, otherwise you would have gone back to him."

"That's what I thought, but Raoul I had plenty of time to think about this. I did it the first night I came here and after Nadir hypnotized me. I remembered everything now. Erik never compelled me to love him. He could have, but he didn't. I fell in love with him. I'm sorry but you need to hear it. I love Erik and that's not going to change."

"Christine, he _drained _four women and how many countless others?"

"I know," she admitted softly. "I agree it's wrong and I wish I could say he had remorse for that, but he doesn't. It's survival for him. But that doesn't change how I feel. Is that wrong? Yes I will agree and I don't like that he did kill, but I'm thinking I could somehow help. Erik bit me and took my blood, but he didn't kill me. He stopped. He can control himself. He just needs some guidance and I'm sure I can get him to stop murdering anyone else."

His brows disappeared into his hair. "Christine, don't you hear yourself? You're suggesting being his personal blood donor to learn control? You have to face reality. That might work well in the movies, but this is the real world and he could just as easily forget who you are and the next thing you know you're dead."

"I can try!" she exclaimed, her voice rising as she forgot about the Persian who was feet away. "I know he can do it. Don't you see? If I can help Erik, then there's no need for you or Nadir to hurt him. We can all part friends. Or at least amicably."

"Christine you're not being reasonable. I get you want it to work out perfectly, but let's face facts. He is a vampire and he will kill. It doesn't matter how much you help him or how much you want to believe he can change… if he doesn't then what? You're dead or worse… you could become like him."

"So what if I did? If I was happy, wouldn't that count?"

Raoul blanched. "You want to be like him?!"

She sighed. "I don't know Raoul. Maybe. But I seriously don't know if I want to be a vampire. It won't be easy with Erik, but I'll be happy. And I do love him."

Raoul stood from the table, scraping his chair against the floor. He lowered his head as he shook it slowly. "You're not thinking clearly. He's putting these thoughts in your head and you're confused. You think you're making the right decision, but the Christine I know wouldn't accept this. She wouldn't accept a murderer let alone love him."

"Perhaps she just grew up and realized that you were not the man for her," Christine retorted and not flinching when Raoul's expression turned to pain. "I'm sorry Raoul. It was a mistake for me to come here."

She rose from her seat, but Raoul moved around and grabbed her wrist. "You're not going back to him."

"The Hell I am!" she cried and pulled her wrist, but Raoul squeezed it tightly. "I know Erik won't hurt me. Thank you for everything, but I'm done here. Now let go of me!" Christine yanked her arm away when Nadir lifted his head from the couch to look over at the quarreling couple.

"What in the name of Allah are you two fighting about?"

Christine closed her mouth, but Raoul glared at her. "Guess who decided the monster might have a heart."

Nadir looked at her in disbelief, becoming wide awake as he left the couch to come into the kitchen. "Miss Daaé, I know how you must feel, but going back is not the solution. It will—"

"Will you stop with the preaching?" Christine interrupted. "I appreciate what you and Raoul did, really I do. But this is my decision to make, not yours. I thought long and hard about this and if something should happen to me it's because it was my choice. I'm not yours to protect anymore. I'm going home."

Nadir blocked her from moving away. "Listen carefully to me young lady. This is not a romance with a happily ever after. He will inevitably kill you. It's the nature of the demon."

"Then if it is, so be it." She lifted her chin and stared back into the Persian's eyes. "But I'm not staying here."

"Christine—" Raoul started but she whirled around and narrowed her gaze. "Not another word Raoul. I'm sorry we didn't work. I wished things could have been different. But this is the path I'm choosing. It will always be Erik. I hope we can be friends, but I don't know if it's something you will ever be happy with."

"Miss Daaé…" Nadir said and she turned around. "I know you want to believe his humanity is intact, but it's a trick, a façade. He wants you to believe there could be something good in him so you will go to him."

"How do you know his humanity is not there? How can you pass judgment on him and decide he has to be soulless because every vampire you ran into seems to be?"

"Because I have seen too many people die in the arms of a vampire thinking the way you do!" Nadir yelled which caused her to start. "He's not human! They are never humans anymore! They are devils who want to destroy life! You are being a foolish woman ruled by her heart! You will die!"

This last statement caused Nadir to breathe heavily as he looked upon the woman who was the spitting image of the opera singer from so long ago… and knowing he was going against the same creature his ancestor wanted to protect. She had no idea what she was doing, just like in his great-grandfather's diaries. The first Nadir Khan thought he was doing his old friend a favor by letting him be, but he allowed his heart and friendship to rule him. Now, Nadir knew she would be going down the same road that Nadir Khan did and he felt powerless to stop her from making this grave mistake.

Christine looked from him to Raoul and said, "I'm not going to change my mind. Don't you dare blame yourselves either. I'm going back and that's final." With that said, Christine went to the bedroom to pack her belongings. She was going to leave now and if either of them tried to stop her… so help them… she would do what she had to, to leave.

While she was gone, Raoul shot the Persian a look. "I don't know what you're going to do, but I'm not letting her walk out of that door."

"I agree," Nadir said, nodding. "I'm afraid there is no other choice in the matter."

xxXXxx

Christine busied herself and double-checked to make sure she had everything she had brought with her. She was stalling before walking out of the door and getting Van Helsing. Not because she was having second thoughts or she was worried what the men might say to try and persuade her… No, she was thinking about her future with Erik. It wasn't going to be smooth-sailing and she wasn't sure if being a vampire was what she wanted…

Would it make things easier with Erik? Yes. She wouldn't age for one and she would be able to better understand him. But could she take another human's life? Could she drink the blood of the living?

That was the part she struggled with and thought she would have to see how things turned out. Of course, once she was with Erik, she knew there would be no going back. Not with him and not with the demon. Loving Erik meant loving the demon and leaving for good would be death.

However, she didn't seem concerned about that. She felt lighter, free. Knowing it was her all along who loved Erik and not his power… it was liberating. And she was making this choice of her free will and not from any outside influences.

She blew a piece of hair out of her face and grabbed her bag. "Time to get Van Helsing."

She walked out and saw Raoul wasn't around. All there was the Persian who was playing with her cat by holding a string of floss over his head.

"That's cute but we're still going," she said as she walked over and scooped up her pet.

Nadir pushed on his legs to stand and brush some loose hairs off his pants. "Very well. I know there is no point in trying to talk you out of this, but Mr. de Chagny worries for you. If something should happen to you, then he will blame himself no matter what."

"That's not my problem," she said. "I told him this is my decision."

"Yes but he will still feel responsible knowing he could have done more. He cares an awful lot for you, and I'm not intervening, but I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me that you are absolutely sure that this is what you want. Once you leave, then there is no turning back. Choosing it is also choosing the demon and there is no escape."

"I know," she replied.

"Do you?" he questioned and sighed. "Either way. This is not my decision. This is not my life. I just want to make sure that you know what you're getting yourself into."

She smiled. "Thank you. I do know and I'm not scared anymore. Well, maybe a little, but not of him. I love Erik."

He looked at her and nodded. "Yes… I can see that. Well, before you leave, just humor an old man and take this." Nadir went over to his bag and pulled out a slim square-shaped box. He walked back to her and opened the lid to show a silver chain with a tiny silver moon crescent. "It's up to you if you want to wear it or not… but this had belonged to my wife. She was hoping to give it to our daughter if we had one and… well… call me sentimental but I would like you to have it. At least you will know that if you need help, you will know who to go to."

Christine looked up to him with astonishment. "I couldn't—"

"No, I insist," he said, and grabbed the chain. "She would have liked you. You two were quite alike, and I guess, that it explains why I had been so hard on you."

Christine nodded, understandingly. "Thank you." She set her cat on the couch and pulled her hair back so Nadir could fasten it for her. She lightly touched the charm. "It is beautiful."

She hugged the Persian, which he returned and then they pulled back. "I know we hadn't seen eye to eye, but I do appreciate what you've done. But there has to be another way…"

"I know but not everything can have that."

"Try at least," she pleaded. "I love him and I don't want Raoul to go after him. I—" Christine shook her head, frowning.

"Is something wrong?"

"No… I got dizzy but I'm fine now. Man…" Christine shook her head again as dots appeared before her eyes. She looked at Nadir who was watching her carefully and then she realized. "You…" she whispered. "You didn't mean it…"

"I'm sorry Miss Daaé, but this is for your own good," the Persian said as she stumbled and fell. He got her but she pushed him away and she tried running for the door, but the last thing she remembered was collapsing into Raoul's arms when he entered the apartment.

xxXXxx

When she came to, Christine was handcuffed to the bed while her legs were tied together with rope to keep her from kicking out. She was groggy, but she was able to make out the two shapes in the room.

"Y-you drugged m-me," she accused, although her voice was weak. "H-h-how?" Then she remembered the necklace and as realization dawned on her she heard Nadir speaking.

"Yes the necklace. A harmless toxin that makes you unconscious by touch. Don't worry. It is fading and there are no lasting effects."

Christine looked in the direction where Raoul stood silently, her expression full of hatred. "I can't believe you did this to me," she croaked. "I thought I could count on you. I thought you were my friend."

"Chris—"

"No!" she shouted. "YOU BETRAYED ME! HELP! HELP ME ERIK!"

Nadir ran to her and clapped his hand over her mouth. "We have to shut her up! Hurry! Give me something I could stop her with."

Christine squirmed and struggled, but the Persian was strong and kept her pinned to the bed and made sure his fingers would not be bitten. Raoul returned with a cloth and that was quickly shoved against her mouth and tied around her head, her screams muffled for the time being.

xxXXxx

Somewhere… in the darkness… he heard her screams for him and his eyes glowed red.

TBC…

Just a couple side notes on this chapter… One, I tried researching a poison that knocks a person out by touch and I couldn't find one but for the sake of fiction I made it up. If it sounds silly, oh well, but I didn't want them to use chloroform again and have Christine fall for it. I wanted something that was unpredictable so they could tie her up.

Second, yes I mentioned Erik's eyes glowed red while in previous chapters it had been amber. The reason for this… Erik is pissed. The demon is pissed. You would be seeing red too, lol.

Hope that clears it up and don't forget to review!


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: I couldn't wait to get this posted and since a lot of you have asked so nicely too… I decided to go ahead and put this up early. Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing! Also, welcome kpmindc! I'm glad you're liking my story so far and hope you like for all the surprises I have stored.

**Chapter 29**

That night proved to be hellish. Despite Christine's cries being muffled, Raoul could hear her sorrow and he had to cover his ears. Earlier, when Nadir told him to leave the apartment, he had argued about it, wanting to know what the Persian had in mind in keeping her in the apartment and from running into the demon's arms. The hunter had assured him that no harm would come to her and that he wanted to try talking to her again.

So like the idiot that he was and the fact he wanted to blow off steam to keep himself from saying anything wrong to her, Raoul left to make a quick junk food run. After everything, he wanted something unhealthy and salty to eat. He should have known better though. He would never forget the panic he felt when Christine came running into his arms when he opened the door and she fainted dead away.

"What the fuck did you to do?" Raoul growled, cradling Christine against his chest. "You said you were going to talk to her."

Nadir sighed. "Boy, did you honestly believe that talking alone would convince her? No… she hasn't a clue what she's doing. Or the risk she's putting herself in with these romanticized illusions. She thinks she can help… no she cannot. There is no helping the damned. This was the only way to ensure her safety. Now, you cannot tell me that was wrong."

Raoul glanced down at the woman in his arms. Was it wrong to want to make sure she was safe? Right now, he was quickly losing the belief in right from wrong. The two ideas were so intertwined that it was hard to see which was which anymore. Eventually, he had to agree that although this way was not ideal, at least Christine could not put herself in danger.

He carried her to the room where the Persian followed.

"Don't you think you did enough damage?" Raoul demanded after placing her gently on top of the covers.

"She's holding onto him that is clear. The distance has helped and the safeguards did their works as well… but she chooses to remain under his influence. I fear that her belief that she's in love with the creature is clouding her judgment and her mind from being completely free. She will fight us, you know. She will do whatever she can to flee to it. We can't have that happen."

"What do you suggest? We handcuff her to the bed?" Raoul asked, the last being a poor joke as he brushed his hand through her hair.

"Precisely."

Raoul's head snapped in his direction. "Now—"

"How many times do I have to tell you? This is for her own good. She needs to be tied up. Letting her roam free is giving her the knife to kill herself with. You have to make the hard decisions Mr. de Chagny. That is the difference between life and death."

"She'll hate me for sure," he whispered dejectedly.

"Yes… yes, she will hate you. She will rage at you. But in the long term she will have her life and in time she will forgive you. You need to keep that faith going."

Raoul gazed down at her and made up his mind. Yes, this will kill him but she meant the world to him. And if this was what has to be done, then so be it.

Raoul went over to his table where he kept his handcuffs and lifted her hands above her head to make sure she would be in place. When he turned around, Nadir had some rope.

"For her legs. She will kick."

Raoul took it from him. "No. I'll do it."

Once that was done, it was a matter of waiting for her to wake up. The dose that Nadir dipped the charm in was little and would keep her out for a while. As the minutes ticked by, Raoul noticed her body twitching as she was stirring back to consciousness.

_Here it goes_, he thought when she opened her eyes.

It had been worse than he had imagined. Yes, Christine hated him. There was no mistaking the look in her eyes when she glared at him. But… the worse… the part that made his heart clenched and weep was when she said he betrayed her.

On some level, he had known she would see it that way, but he didn't let the thought enter his mind when he placed those cuffs on her and tied up her legs. He couldn't. He had to remind himself that he was doing this for her benefit and good. She was under Erik's spell and she didn't know what she was doing or saying.

But to hear her scream…

That would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Now, it was growing late out and he and Nadir stayed out in the main room with the bedroom door closed. The Persian was facing the window, staring out into the black night.

"I know he heard her," he said softly.

"Do you think he will come for her?" Raoul questioned.

"Yes. He will try but he won't get her."

A couple of hours later, Raoul woke to an inhuman scream.

He darted for his gun as did Nadir and they both looked out to the window. It was so dark out, an impenetrable fortress of obscurity, but then suddenly two blazing red orbs appeared out of the blackness.

Raoul fell back, completely stunned, as he watched in horrified amazement as the two balls of fire glowed brighter and brighter… Then a hand hit the window, the nails screeching down the glass. Cracks appeared but the hand drew back, the howling from outside ringing in the men's eardrums as the touch was too much for the thing to bear.

He quickly realized that it was _him… the demon_. Somehow, Erik found where he lived and the burning hatred in those hellish orbs was locked on him.

"Steady," Nadir ordered.

"Can it come in?" Raoul asked.

"No. Not unless the owner offers the invitation."

"That's not going to happen," the young man muttered, but he couldn't bring himself to look away. He wanted to see this Erik, this vampire. He had to know what he was going up against.

"It knows she's here," the Persian whispered. "Even if he should break the window, the barrier will keep it from coming. Look away Mr. de Chagny. Whatever you do, you must look away."

Raoul didn't object or argue. Instead, he heeded the hunter's warning and buried his face into his pillow, but throughout the night… he couldn't shake away the feeling that Erik was staring at him.

xxXXxx

It wasn't until dawn that the sensation of being watched was gone and Raoul found Nadir already dressed and inspecting the window.

"What's the damage?"

The Persian sighed. "There are cracks but it needs to be fixed, even only temporarily. Now that the creature knows where we are, it won't hesitate to try again."

"And Christine?"

"She's fine. Still sleeping when I checked. But you… You need to sleep."

"I'm fine."

Nadir shook his head. "No. You're not. I'll go out and get what I need to fix this. You will stay and rest. There is no quicker ways to die than if you are exhausted."

"What about you? You were up all night," Raoul argued.

"For the most part. I did get a couple hours sleep in before morning and that's all I need. I'm used to it while you are not. You are no good to Miss Daaé like this. Sleep. She'll be fine in the meantime."

"What about those… what did you called them? The touched ones? Would he send them here?"

"Maybe. But they are human and you will know like I said by the brand of the silver. Besides, I won't be gone for long. An hour max."

Raoul couldn't stop himself from yawning and he wouldn't be able to put up much of a fight with the lack of sleep. Nadir was right. He wouldn't be doing Christine any favors if he kept pushing his body to the extremes of exhaustion. He relented and nodded.

"Good. I won't be gone for long."

Raoul got up and handed the Persian his key and waited for him to leave. His body was screaming for some shut eye, but there was one thing he had to do first.

Carefully, Raoul opened the bedroom door and found Christine still sleeping like Nadir said. He tiptoed into the room and stopped by her side. She was breathing softly, but she was twisted on her side while she slept, which did not look comfortable.

He cringed, knowing that he had been responsible for keeping her like that all night long. Yet, as much guilt as he felt, he had no regrets. No, he believed he was doing the right thing in doing what he did to make sure Christine didn't risk her life. He was still furious at the Persian for breaking his trust and poisoning her, but this was a desperate situation. He understood that even if Nadir's solution was undesirable. At least Christine was safe and alive at this very moment.

But still… she shouldn't have to suffer anymore.

Raoul removed the gag from her mouth. He believed he could trust her from screaming out; at least that's what he hoped for, and then went to her legs and untied the rope so she would be able to move her legs around. He wished he could remove the cuffs, but there was still a good chance that she might try to escape to go back to Erik. Perhaps, with the rope and gag gone, she will see this as his way of apologizing for keeping her trapped like this.

He very well knew that forgiveness would not come easily and he accepted that. In time, he prayed Christine would understand his motive, but this had to be a start. That he was sorry that it had come to this and that he trusted her to do the right thing, especially when his main concern was for her well-being.

He sighed quietly and gave her one last parting look before he went back out to the main room.

He checked his gun to make sure it was loaded and placed it under his pillow. As soon as his head lay against it, Raoul was fast asleep.

xxXXxx

It was approaching one o'clock when Raoul woke up. He saw that a wooden board was covering the lower half of the window where the cracks were. Nadir must have done that while he was still sleeping.

_I really must have been tired if I didn't hear him nailing it in_, he thought. He stood and stretched out before pushing himself up on his feet. On the coffee table he saw a note and instantly knew it was Nadir.

_Gone to get more supplies. Need everything we can get. Miss Daaé had her breakfast and don't worry… I took the cuffs off her for a while. She has them on again and I made sure there would be no more cries either. You took a risk! I put my number on speed dial on your cell in case you need me. Press 1. One more thing—do not trust anyone. Now that your address is no longer secret, you cannot count on anyone. _

Raoul crumbled up the note after he read it and tossed it in his garbage bin. He was a cop for god's sake and he knew better than to let anyone into his apartment. He wasn't a greenhorn.

His stomach was grumbling and he figured he should eat something. Maybe bring Christine lunch too since she might be hungry as well. And he was going to throw out that blasted gag too.

He put together a quick PB&J sandwich for himself and Christine. Then he checked to see that Van Helsing was set and knocked on the door before entering.

She was awake, her gaze narrowing into a glare, and she was flexing her fingers so only one would be showing.

"I know Christine. You don't have to keep reminding me," he said and brought the plates over to the nightstand. He reached over and took the gag off again. "I left it off purposely. I guess he didn't trust you."

He was expecting a tart reply, but to his surprise, she didn't say a word.

He picked up one of the plates and set it next to her. Then he pulled out the key to unlock the cuffs. Immediately, she was rubbing her hands together, but she still did not speak.

"I deserve it, okay? But the silent treatment isn't going to help. I am sorry Christine. You may not think so or believe me. Hell, you may not even trust me anymore. I don't blame you, but I did it for you regardless. I know you want to believe your feelings for Erik are real, I get that. I do. But you need to understand that this is a grave situation. You are not thinking clearly and you were making a hasty decision."

He winced, knowing that lecturing her wasn't going to win her over. Yet, he couldn't stop himself from trying to justify himself. The silence was killing him and he wished she would say something. Even if it was to cuss him out. It was better than this stubborn silence.

She didn't even touch her lunch.

"Are you hungry?" he asked and she looked away. He sighed once more and ate his sandwich. When he finished, she didn't budge from her side. He felt his temper rising at her childishness. "I don't know what you want me to say or do. I'm sorry. I know it's not enough, but that's all I can offer. But this is stupid for you not to eat. C'mon Christine."

She still did not turn around and so Raoul told her, "Put your arms up then."

She did and he clasped the cuffs on once more. He took his plate and hers and left the room, the door slamming behind him.

Van Helsing ran over and started pawing at the door. Raoul turned and yelled, "Get away from there!" The cat had the audacity to glare at him the same way his owner did and he cursed. "I give up."

He marched to the kitchen and threw the plates in the sink. Desperate times calls for a drink. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey he kept for emergencies and deeming this one as such… he poured a shot and swallowed it in one gulp.

Why was life so fucking complicated? Why did Christine have to be so obstinate? He was doing his best, and despite him being the number one asshole of the year, the very least she could do was eat the goddamn sandwich!

He drank another shot and gripped the counter.

She wasn't the only one to blame. He was just as responsible for the current situation and he couldn't fault her for not wanting him in her sight. He didn't want to be in his own sight.

Yet, as he thought about this, he couldn't help but wonder the extent that Erik's hold could have over her. Was he making sure that she ignored Raoul? Was this his way in torturing the young man?

It had to be. It was driving him to drink.

Raoul put the bottle back and walked out of the kitchen.

That had to be right. Erik must be able to communicate a message or an order of some kind to her. Nadir said they the two were bonded. Maybe Erik was keeping her silent and she was helplessly obeying his demand.

Well, Raoul watched enough shows and movies to know that if the puppeteer was killed, then all strings would be detached. Then Christine would be her old self. She would see that all she felt was not real and that he only meant for her well-being and she would return to him…

It was a hope, a dream. But if Erik was dead, then they would be free. She would be free. And they could have the sort of life he had envisioned the moment they first met.

His thoughts were interrupted when his cell was buzzing. He flipped it opened and had to pull it away from his ear.

"WHERE THE HELL IS SHE!?"

"Hi Meg," Raoul said, chuckling rather nervously. "Something wrong?"

"Oh, very funny. Ha ha. I'm very pissed off at the moment and I don't give a flying fig you're a cop because I'm capable of murder right now and I will plead insanity!"

"Who's the poor victim?"

"Who do you think? Christine that's who. She hasn't returned my calls or messages and my wedding is days away and I need my fucking Maid of Honor to help me!"

Unconsciously, Raoul looked at the closed door. "Sounds dire." 

"You better believe it," Meg retorted. "I'm Bridezilla now and I will kill her. And anyone else who stands in my way. Even Artie if he doesn't stop fucking laughing!" There was a thud on the other line, which Meg must have thrown something at her fiancé.

"Easy on the domestic disturbance Meg," Raoul said jokingly. "Christine—"

He paused and wondered if he should tell her. But this was Meg and surely he could trust her.

"—she's here with me," he finished.

There was a beat. "Come again?"

"Christine's here… with me," Raoul said. "She needed a place to crash."

"So she decided to stay with her ex-boyfriend and not her best friend? Oh, I'm going to kill her, revive her, and kill her again."

"Take it easy Meg. She's going through a rough patch," he told her. "And if you did kill her, then you will be sorry that you did."

She sighed. "Yeah. I know. But I'm still going to rip her a new one for not coming to me. No offense but best friends always before beaus, even ex ones."

"None taken."

"Good. I'll be over soon." She hung up and Raoul closed his cell. Then it occurred to him. Christine was handcuffed to the bed! How was he going to explain that one? And that was not including that Christine can tell her how they drugged her to stay.

"Shit," he mumbled under his breath and ran a hand through his hair. He could call her back and say that Christine isn't feeling well… but that wasn't going to stop Hurricane Meg by the sound of it. He would have to watch them and make sure Christine doesn't say something. Or… he could talk to Meg about the situation. She certainly wasn't Team Erik when they talked. And if anyone could talk sense into Christine… it would have to be Meg!

Feeling slightly better, he knew what he had to say and when Meg was knocking at the door, he opened it while she was in mid-knock.

"Hi," he greeted.

"Hi," she said back and stormed past him. "So where is she?"

Closing the door, Raoul motioned for her to sit down. Frowning, the blonde did and raised a brow at the sleeping bag and blankets on the floor.

"Did you guys have a sleepover party or something? And what's this stuff on the walls? Redecorating?"

"Meg, there's something I need to talk to you about. And I need to know that what I say stays in this room."

"Sounds serious. Okay."

Raoul crossed his arms and sighed. "Here it goes."

So he told her about Christine's late night visit and how she knows that Erik is a vampire. He told her about Nadir and how he was staying with them and the lengths they took to protect her. With shame, he told her about the drugging and keeping her locked in the room and how Erik tried coming into the apartment last night.

Meg listened intently and covered her mouth when he told her about the drugging. There was anger in her eyes but also he saw a trace of understanding. Then with Erik… she gasped and looked over at the window. When he was done, she was shaking her head.

"I can't believe it. Well, I do, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah."

"I get why you and Nadir? Okay, you and Nadir… did what you did. Christine had to be stopped all right, but I don't know if I would have gone with the drugging route. But it kept her here, right? So, she's safe. Do you think he would try again?"

"Yes," Raoul said with a strong conviction. "If not him, then he would send Buquet."

She nodded. "What do you want me to do?"

"Talk to her. She'll listen to you."

"I don't know about that. The girl has a mind of her own. You know that."

"Yes but this is different. She's talking about going back to this dangerous creature. He can kill her and she doesn't seem to understand."

"I'll do my best. But you do owe me."

"I figured an extra couple hundred dollars for your wedding present."

"A couple extra hundred more? Or that's it?"

"More," he replied with a grin.

"All right. Let me go see her."

"She's in the bedroom." He pointed to the closed door.

"Here we go," Meg said and strode over. She placed her hand on the knob and yelped, pulling her hand back.

"What's wrong?" Raoul asked, running to her.

"Nothing," she quickly said, but he grabbed her hand and saw a bright red blistering spot on her palm. As if the handle burned her…

Raoul's eyes widened and before he could grab her, Meg ripped her hand from him and her other fist came racing towards him. He jumped away from her punch and leapt forward to restrain the blonde woman.

Yet, Meg was quick… the dancer in her moving away from his hands. The last thing Raoul wanted to do was use force or a weapon, but the fire that was dancing in her eyes was not Meg. No… this was Erik.

The startling discovery caught Raoul off guard and Meg flung herself at him, knocking him to the ground. Her hands immediately wrapped his neck and she began to choke him. Raoul bucked and reached up to push her away, but it seemed she developed supernatural strength as she applied more pressure to his throat, his attempts to fight her not even fazing her.

Slowly dots were appearing in front of his eyes and his arms fell as he lost consciousness.

xxXXxx

Christine tried to sit up from her spot when she heard what sounded like Meg's voice. She had her mouth open to shout for help, but then she heard Raoul and Meg talking about her and she closed it, knowing it would be pointless.

Raoul was dead-set on keeping her away from Erik and her best friend was willing to go along as well. Was there anyone she could trust?

But then the talking turned to a cry of pain. And then a scuffle of some kind.

Christine began to twist and pull on the cuffs, the links banging against the metal frame.

The door opened and she saw Meg standing in the doorway.

"Meg? What's going on?" she asked her voice hesitant as she did not see Raoul.

"It's all right Christine. I'm getting you out of here." Her friend ran to her and snatched the key off the nightstand.

"Raoul?" Christine questioned.

Meg ignored her and proceeded to unlock the handcuffs. The blonde grabbed her arm and pulled her from the bed.

"C'mon! We don't have much time!"

Christine was too dazed as she followed Meg out of the apartment. Raoul was nowhere to be found.

TBC…

Just curious… anyone out there feeling bad for Raoul? Anyone? I kind of feel bad, but he needs to let go. So we'll see how Raoul fares, especially since he got beat up by a girl.


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: You guys are seriously the best. So I have another chapter for you! I know someone asked how long this story has left and I did finish this story (there's only 10 chapters left), but like all of my stories… it's the ending that I change like a million times. The final chapter is perfect for me, but leading up to it I'm not exactly happy. So in between _Heaven by the Sea_ I am reviewing these chapters and I do plan on making some changes, which may result in adding another chapter or losing one. I haven't decided. There is one chapter that I hate and I have no idea why I wrote it, except it sounded like a good idea at the time and now… I feel it disturbs the flow of the story. And with school starting up soon… I'll be subbing again and coaching (no full time position… stupid lack of experience), but this story will not be abandoned. It is done but there will be revisions, which is not bad to me. At least majority of the work has been finished.

Thank you again for the support and don't forget to review at the end!

**Chapter 30**

It took a few minutes, but eventually the shock faded from Christine once she was moving in the open air.

She was free. Free!

It was what she wanted, but why did it not sit well in her stomach?

Meg was charging ahead, her hand pulling on her arm to keep up. Never before had Christine seen her like this and it was unnerving. She waited until they put a good distance between them and Raoul's apartment before she finally yanked her arm out of her friend's grasp.

Meg turned around, an impatient frown marring her features. "What is it Christine?"

"For one, we can slow down. Second, do you mind telling me what happened?"

"What do you mean?"

Christine sighed. "I was being kept in Raoul's apartment for my 'protection' and the next thing I knew you come in and we're running for our lives. How did you know I was there?"

"I didn't at first. I called looking for you since you weren't returning my calls and texts. Raoul told me you were there and then he told me what he did and that other man," the blonde said and reached for her hand again. "We need to keep going."

"Whoa wait!" Christine exclaimed. "What happened to Raoul? I didn't see him when we left."

"I don't know," Meg sighed in irritation. "The bathroom. Does it matter? He locked you up."

"Yeah, I know. But I heard someone fighting. Meg, what exactly happened in that room that you're not telling me?"

Meg gave her a look and started laughing. "Really Christine? That's what you're worried about? Look… it was nothing. Raoul left the room and I quickly ran in to get you out. I wasn't going to leave you there trapped like a prisoner. What did you think happened?"

Okay, that made sense. Yet, something about her story did not add up to what Christine heard. She knew she heard someone fighting. Of course, logic was telling her that there was no way Meg could overpower Raoul. He was stronger than she was and heavier too… Meg was thin and she was strong, but not strong enough to take down a hundred-eighty pound man.

Christine forced a grin and nodded. "Never mind. It's nothing."

"Good. Let's go somewhere safe where we can hide out for a while."

They walked a little further and they ducked inside a bar. It wasn't really what Christine would deem a safe place, but there were people around and the chances of a scene being played out were minimal.

There were booths and Meg led Christine to one in the far, back corner. From there, they had the vantage point of seeing who came and went. Once seated, Meg let out a huge sigh of relief. "That's over! Man, you have to promise me that after this… we take a vacation from the excitement."

"Already there," Christine replied. "But you do know that eventually we have to go back."

"What do you mean?" Meg's expression fell. "Christine, I just saved your ass and you want to go back?"

"Van Helsing is there. I'm not going to leave him behind," she argued. "Plus, you got my back. We go back and grab my things and there's nothing they can do. The last thing any of us wants to do is get the police involved."

"That's stupid," Meg muttered.

"Van Helsing is my pet. I love him and I'm not going to leave him behind."

"Raoul will take good care of him. You know he will so forget it."

"Meg, what the Hell is wrong with you? You have been acting so strange. You know how much my cat means to me."

"Me strange? Honey, you're the one with all the problems with men. I'm the bystander who jumps in now and then to put things right. Excuse me if I'm stressed with that and on top of that… my wedding too."

"Meg—"

"No Christine. I'm not going back and you can forget about it." Then her voice softened. "At least… wait until things calm down."

Christine looked out and felt guilty about what Meg said. Despite everything going on with her, her best friend had a wedding approaching and there were things that needed to be done for that. Then she remembered the date for today.

"Oh Meg… your Bachelorette party was tonight," Christine said quietly.

The blonde nodded. "What a night that turned out, huh?"

"It's not too late. We're at a bar. Let's order some drinks."

"Thanks Chris, but I don't really feel like it. I'm too tired." Meg also looked out to watch the other patrons when Christine noticed her hand.

"Meg! Did you burn yourself?"

Meg glanced down and eyes widening… she quickly moved her hand to her lap. "It was nothing. An accident."

"Let me see!" Christine reached over and grabbed her arm. She looked at the palm and the skin was red. It looked too recent and needed attention. "Meg, you need to get that taken care of before it gets worse. There's a pharmacy not far from here—"

"No. I'm fine. It's nothing."

"Meg, you could have a third-degree burn or something by the look of it. You're not doing yourself any favors by ignoring it. Think about your wedding. You said you wanted everything to be perfect. Don't you think that this will bring attention?"

"I will soon. Not now."

"Why? We have nothing to worry about. There's no need for us to hide here or anything. It's not like we're meeting someone." Christine's voice trailed off as she sat back. The uneasy feeling in her stomach returned and it was growing each passing second. Meg's odd behavior, Raoul missing, not to mention the indifferent care about the burn on her hand… Come to think of it… she remembered she heard a yelp or something. Didn't Nadir say that silver also burns the touched ones? The human slaves of the vampire?

She looked up at Meg's face as her friend also was staring back at her. "Christine, you okay? You gone white."

"Meg," Christine started. "Tell me the truth. Are we waiting for someone?"

The blonde barked out a laugh. "What? Why would you think that?"

"Meg, you're not yourself. Something isn't right."

"It's nothing you didn't want. Were you not trying to leave Raoul to go back to Erik?"

"Yes but…" Christine stopped. "You know… lately you have been cheering for Erik. What caused the sudden switch?"

"Can't I be supportive when a guy makes my friend happy?"

"Yes but I told you about what happened in my dressing room. Didn't that at least anger you like it did for me?"

"Christine, you're reading too much into it. Okay that wasn't the best way to handle it but the Master…" Meg's slip caused Christine's eyes to widen and she stood up in her seat.

"He got to you…" Christine whispered in a horrified realization.

"Christine—" Before Meg could reach for her, Christine was running out the doors.

She had to get away from her. She had to get away…

xxXXxx

Something was wrong.

When Nadir was walking down the hall, he could sense it before he reached the door. It was slightly ajar and he set down the bags he was carrying to pull out his pistol.

He gently nudged the door opened and stepped inside.

Nothing was amiss it would seem, except for two things:

Raoul was missing and the bedroom door where Christine was kept was opened. Looking inside only confirmed his suspicions—she was gone too.

"Mother of Allah," he mumbled, keeping himself alert in case someone or _something _jumped him.

Finally he heard moaning and followed it to the bathroom. The door was wedged tight, but he could hear the moaning getting louder.

With all his strength, Nadir slammed himself into the door over and over until the door gave and he could go inside. Lying in the bathtub, bound and duct tape over his mouth, Nadir found Raoul regaining consciousness.

Nadir walked over and didn't give Raoul the chance to prepare himself as he ripped the tape off.

"FUCK!" Raoul screamed.

"You can say that again," Nadir replied coolly. "What happened?"

Raoul shook his head and pushed himself up so he could sit upright. "Mind getting these off me too?" he asked holding up his tied hands.

Nadir pulled a knife from his boot and cut loose the rope. Replacing the knife back, he closed the toilet lid and sat on top. "Now, I know I was gone for a few hours, but how did a cop get himself in this place?"

Raoul rubbed his hands and grumbled, "Meg."

"Meg?" Nadir echoed, frowning. "You mean Miss Daaé's friend?"

"The one and only."

Nadir swore. "I told you not to trust anyone! Didn't it occur to you that the vampire would turn his victim's friends against them?"

"Yeah I kind of figured that one out," Raoul said. "I honestly didn't think it at first. Meg sounded like herself."

"Of course she did," Nadir responded angrily. "That's part of the game. To fool you. And now Miss Daaé is with them. How long ago was this?"

"I don't know… maybe ten, fifteen minutes?"

"Then it might not be too late. Sunset is about to happen. We don't have much time to lose."

xxXXxx

Panting, Christine slowed down and swallowed gulps of air. Her chest was burning and her leg muscles were tightening, but none of that mattered.

She got away.

She ran until she was surrounded by groups of people traveling every which way. Meg had to be pursuing her and at least she could relax now since she could easily lose her. While she moved in a brisk pace, now and then checking behind her to make sure she wasn't being followed, and thought about this recent development.

Erik got to Meg. He turned her to a touched one. A human slave.

Her heart clenched and the back of her throat burned as tears sparked her eyes. She couldn't believe he would do something like this. Well, perhaps she could. But to use Meg to get to her…

He should have known! He should have known she would have returned to him. All she needed was time to make up her mind, and in her heart, she always knew it would be him.

Now…

It seemed like everything changed once more. This betrayal was just another painful one to add to her growing despair. First Raoul, then Nadir, and now Erik.

Was there anyone she could trust?

It would have been Meg, but her friend was not her friend. Not with her being controlled.

Christine had to wonder… how long was Meg under Erik's spell? It must have been after she tried warning her about him. At the time, Christine was too stubborn to see past this, and too ill. But somehow, Erik must have known what Meg was doing and corrupted her to persuade her to stay with him.

How could she have been so blind not to see the signs?

Although, Christine was starting to feel that she had been blind for an awful long time. And now she was finally seeing things clearly.

For the man she loved, she was afraid if choosing him would be the right choice. Not after experiencing what he could do and for using the people she loved to do his bidding.

She needed guidance desperately, now more than ever. She needed someone to talk to and there was one place she could go to, to find that sanctuary.

Seeing a cab coming towards her, Christine hailed it to stop. She slid inside and ordered the driver, "To the Marble Cemetery please."

xxXXxx

_No! No! No! The Master's not going to be happy! _Meg thought as she raced around looking for Christine. So caught up in her worry about her failed task and his wrath that would sure to occur, she didn't see Raoul until it was too late.

She was yanked into an alley and her back hit against the concrete wall of the building. Raoul had his gun drawn and the barrel touching her forehead.

"Where is she?" he growled. "Don't test me Meg. I know that _thing _got to you. And I won't hesitate in pulling this trigger. I don't care if we are friends."

The blonde's lip quivered. "I-I don't know," she wailed softly. "I lost her! He's going to be so angry!"

Raoul's nails dug into her shoulder. "I don't care about him!" he shouted in her face. "Christine! Where did she go?"

"I don't know! It's the God's honest truth!"

The panic that was growing behind her eyes was enough to convince him that this wasn't another ploy. Christine ran away from her and that meant she was not with Erik and she was still safe.

He let out the air through his teeth and loosened his grasp on her. "Sorry Meg. But this is for the best. Consider us even."

Raoul pistol-whipped her and caught Meg before she hit the ground. With one arm around her, he put his gun in his holster and then scooped her up. He took her to the first place with lots of people and brought her inside.

This got plenty of attention and Raoul shouted, "I'm a police officer and this woman was knocked unconscious. I need someone to call an ambulance."

The person closest to him, a young couple, was dialing their cellphone and he gently laid Meg on a chair. "Make sure they get her," he told them and they nodded.

Without another word, Raoul left and walked away to avoid anyone from stopping and questioning him. When he was in a safe distance, he thought about where Christine would have run off to and he grinned. He called Nadir and calmly said, "I know where she is."

xxXXxx

"Hi Mom. Hi Dad," Christine greeted sadly, bending down to sit on the cool grass. She leaned forward to stroke the headstone. "I know it's been awhile, but a lot has changed since the last time I saw you guys."

She went on to tell them about how she and Raoul broke up. Then when she met Erik and how she ended up falling in love with him and how he was murdering women in the city.

"He's a vampire. I had a hard time wrapping my mind around it, but it explains so much. Despite everything, I love him Mom and Dad. I know there is some good left in him and he needs someone to guide him, to love him. To teach him and to control his lust for blood. I want to believe it's possible to do this. I know if you met him… you would love him. He's a musician and a composer. A vampire musical genius. And his voice! He has one like an angel's! Of course, I know you wouldn't like what he does… I don't but I know it's a part of him. I accept that he has to survive, and if I could help… then he won't have to kill.

"However, he betrayed me. He did control my mind after he bit me and he has Meg under his influence. I can only assume that Artie is too. And I know he did the same with Carlotta. He made her quit Box Five so I would have a chance to thrive. I can't help but feel like I have no control over my life or my decisions. That he is manipulating everything to make sure he gets his way… and worse of all… I still love him. I should hate him, fear him. But I'm not afraid anymore. And I could never hate him. I tried… I really tried, but I guess that's why they say the heart is slow to learn.

"The thing is… I don't know what to do. I know I want to be with him, but should I? Is it the right thing to do? Could I possibly be risking my life to be with him? Raoul and Nadir seem to think so… And I know they're right. It is a dangerous risk, but love is stronger than anything. It's stronger than death. Yet, I have doubts. What if I fail him? What if I fail myself? I could use your help. Tell me. Is Erik the right choice? Should I take that leap and be with him despite all the blood spilled? Tell me. Tell me what to do."

Christine looked up to the dark sky, the urgent plea becoming desperate. "Give me something! Anything! Is he the one for me?"

All she received was silence and she covered her face and wept. Then… softly, she heard a sound. It was low in volume, but became steady and louder as a familiar baritone filled the empty cemetery.

"_Wandering child, so lost, so helpless… yearning for my guidance…"_

Christine lowered her hands as if she had little choice and peered out to where she heard the voice. On top of a mausoleum about a couple of yards away stood a figure with only its piercing amber eyes glowing in the darkness.

"E-Erik?" Christine whispered, although she was not surprised. She knew he would find her eventually. They were connected after all.

"_Have you forgotten your angel?_" he continued to sing, his haunting voice ringing in her ears. "_Too long you wandered in winter. Far from my far-reaching gaze. Do not resist as your soul obeys!_"

Christine stood on shaky legs and started to move towards him, lost in the trance he was weaving around her.

"I am your Angel of Music," he spoke, a demand that could not be refuted. "Come to me Angel of Music!"

Her hand was outstretched, her gaze lost in his stare as those eyes became brighter and brighter… heeding his call. Soon… soon… she will be in his arms again.

Christine jumped as a gunshot went off, shaking the sleeping earth. She turned to see Nadir and Raoul charging at her, Raoul's gun aimed above her.

"CHRISTINE!" Raoul screamed as the Persian took aim this time and shot another round into the air.

Her head whipped around just in time to see Erik clutching his shoulder, an enraged howl escaping from his lips, his eyes ablaze with hellfire.

"NO!" she began to cry and scream when she was suddenly lifted in the air and thrown over Raoul's shoulder. Christine pounded against his back, her feet kicking, but Raoul continued to run with her away from Erik. He was hurt! She had to go to him!

Lifting her face, Christine's jaw dropped in horror as Nadir fired again as Erik jumped down. The bullet brought him down to the ground, his cry hurting her ears. Then the Persian was running away, towards them, and she called for Erik. Looking, searching, hoping he was all right. She didn't see where the bullet hit him and her heart leapt as Erik struggled to his feet and he was standing upright. The mask was gone and the demon was present.

He was running after them, his speed hampered from the silver bullets, but he was able to chase them.

Raoul slowed down as he reached the car and set Christine on her feet. Keeping one arm around her to keep her from taking off, he used his free arm to take out his gun to help Nadir. He froze, almost hesitating as the shock of that horrific visage was floating towards them. As quickly as it came, Raoul waved his disgust away as he aimed the pistol at the demon's head.

Christine saw this and shouted, "STOP! ERIK STOP!" She jumped and grabbed Raoul's arm, causing the discharge hit the grass.

Relieved, she looked as Erik did what she said. He was standing where she could see the blood from his shoulder and his side where the second bullet pierced. His face was in pain, the silver's poison coursing through his veins turning his skin sallow, but he still stood straight, his eyes on her face.

It was enough for the other men to push her into the car. Christine kept her gaze on him as they drove off.

When she was no longer in sight, Erik collapsed on his knees, hissing through clenched teeth.

Those son of a bitch hunters won this time. Next time… he will be the victor!

"Let it be war upon you both!" Erik panted heavily. He needed blood. He needed it now, damn the consequences.

Calling upon the rest of his strength, Erik looked towards the city and raced to the sounds of pulsing heartbeats.

TBC…

Yikes! So close… but not close enough. Hee hee. I have to make them work to be together, which yes… that is an evil thing to do, but I'm no saint. Also, if you like this, please check out my romantic suspense _Heaven by the Sea_. This is an Erik and Christine story that you have not seen before and… it needs some loving. So please check it out… if only the first couple of chapters. Trust me… you will be hooked and want to see how things turn out at the end.


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: Hi everyone! Sorry for the wait but I have been sick and out of commission. I was watching my copy of the 25th Anniversary of Phantom and then Love Never Dies, which really gave me the strength to log in and get this and _Heaven _updated. Enjoy!

**Chapter 31**

No one spoke, the silence weighing heavily in the car. The only sounds were the muffled sobs from Christine. She was turned to the side, her forehead pressing into the cool glass, completely and utterly exhausted and sore. She hated that she wasn't strong enough to fight back at the cemetery and she hated to know that she got Erik injured.

It was her fault… Her fault that he was bleeding, maybe dying from the silver poison in the bullets, and she only prayed that Erik was able to flee to heal himself. She knew he would need blood and there was no remorse in her heart on where and from whom he could take it. It was simply accepted that the essence of life found within all humans was the necessity for survival.

And Christine hoped Erik would survive.

Meanwhile, Raoul opted to sit next to her, but he did keep some space between them. He knew she was upset and as much as he was loathed to see her in pain… on this matter… he didn't have that much guilt. He saved her from making a huge mistake. He saved her from returning to that monster.

And for what?

What was he expecting?

Raoul didn't know but this silence and tears were not what he wanted. Eventually, Christine passed out and the young man was thankful for that little break. At least it gave him some extra time to think and plan on what he was going to say to her next.

"Relax."

Raoul's attention flicked to Nadir's gaze in the rearview mirror. "Easy for you to say. That was too close for comfort."

"Yes and you confronted the beast and got away. That is a victory."

"Some victory," Raoul retorted. "The girl's lost in her misery and won't talk to me. But… that was something I never want to experience again."

"Well, to save her life, you will have to see the demon and fight once more," Nadir said.

"Yes," Raoul replied grimly, nodding his head. "I'm willing to do that. But… this whole thing! That was a vampire I was shooting at. A real one. I can say that no one else on the force will ever have a life-altering experience like that."

Nadir chuckled. "Very true. You did well, my friend. I know it seems like a lost cause for now, but she will come around."

"You keep saying that… and yet I'm not seeing that happen."

"She's under his influence. Deeply than any other person I have witnessed. She has spent numerous times with it alone and it is possible we only scratched the surface of his compulsions. There could be more than what we accessed from her memory. He could have even fed her his blood without her knowing that her loyalties were changing."

"Wouldn't that have made her touched?"

"Yes but the blood will filter out of her system eventually, leaving a mild case of control, but allowing silver to touch without pain. To maintain his power, the creature will have to keep giving blood to its servants."

The thought of drinking blood caused a shiver to go down Raoul's spine. "Well, we don't have to worry about it now. As soon as we get back to the apartment—"

"I'm afraid that is out of the question." Off the look on the officer's face, Nadir continued. "It's too dangerous now. The creature knows your address thanks to Miss Giry and it will be his first place to attack. No… we are better off on the road. It will give us time to regroup and come up with a plan of attack."

"Everything's back there! All of our weapons, food, not to mention Van Helsing!" Oh God… if Christine learns that they were abandoning her cat… he would rather have a second round with Erik then face her wrath.

"It cannot be helped. We cannot risk our lives in going back for the feline. However, if you are worried, then call a neighbor. But we are not going back."

Raoul sighed and looked back at Christine's sleeping form. She was not going to be happy either way, but what other choice did they have? Did he have? As much as he didn't want to admit, the Persian was right. They couldn't risk it and he pulled out his cell to call the one other person he could trust to take the cat to a safe place. Erik couldn't get into his apartment… but if he used Buquet or even Meg…

"Hey Seward… Raoul here. Look, you have to do me a huge favor…"

xxXXxx

An hour later, Christine woke up and was startled to see they were on the road and she couldn't see anything she recognized.

Breaking her silence, she demanded, "Where are we?"

"Somewhere that is not New York City," Nadir answered.

"What?" Christine exclaimed.

"We can't go back Christine. It will find us," Raoul said.

"You mean _Erik_," she spat. "And what if he does? You should have let me go. I wanted to go back to him."

Raoul shook his head. "That's what it wants you to think. Christine, Meg was going to hand you back to him and you ran away. I know deep down that you know that this _thing _is not what you wanted. Why else would you have run?"

"Because it was _Meg_!" she cried. "He should have known that I would have returned on my own. He should have known that! He shouldn't have used my best friend of all people to get to me."

"And you still want to go back? After that?!"

"You don't understand Raoul, and frankly, I don't think you ever will."

"Damn right I don't understand," Raoul shot back. "But regardless, you're with us now and we are not going to put you in harm's way."

"You keep insisting that I'm Erik's prisoner when really I am your prisoner," Christine said, her tone filled with venom and spite. "You can't handle the fact that I _want _to be with him."

She struck a nerve… everyone in the car knew that. Yet, Raoul masked his expression well so as to not betray his inner feelings, which was yes… he didn't want to believe that Christine really wanted to be with that monster. But it wasn't her… he had to remember. This wasn't the Christine he fell in love with years ago. This was someone else… someone under a trance and would say anything, _do anything_, to make him believe that was her heart's desire.

This Christine was only a puppet and he held onto that belief and hardened his features so no one… especially _Erik _would know how this was affecting him. Showing his emotions was not going to help him… at least not right now.

"If you insist," Raoul said with indifference, which surprised her and even Nadir too. "Either way Christine you are here and that's not going to change. You can rant and rave all you want, but you're not leaving this car."

Just to defy him, Christine did try to open the door, but it would not budge. She glared at him as Raoul grinned smugly. "I guess the child's lock did prove useful," he told the other man and Christine swore.

Once she finished calling her ex-boyfriend all sorts of names, she noticed there was something missing. "Where's Van Helsing? Didn't you go back for him?"

"I'm sorry Miss Daaé, but as I told Mr. de Chagny, we can't risk going back now. Not even for your furry companion," Nadir told her solemnly.

"You can't be serious!" she exclaimed. "My cat! You're leaving him to fend for himself?! What the Hell is wrong with you!?"

"Relax Chris," Raoul tried telling her calmly. "I took care of it. A friend of mine, a _trustworthy_ friend, has him and is going to look after him until it is safe for us to return. Despite what you think of me right now, at least give me some credit. I know how much he means to you and I like the little devil. I wouldn't leave him to 'fend for himself.'"

Seward had been a little flustered over Raoul's odd request, but the young officer told him what had happened and how they couldn't stay in the city any longer. Of course, Seward had to tell him how Harker was on the warpath with the lack of updates from him and wanted to know about his so-called lead. Raoul told him that Seward had to keep it to himself for now until he had something worked out and if Harker says something, then tell the Captain that he had it under control and if he doesn't like it then he can have his badge when he returns.

"I think you just predicted your future," Seward told him glumly.

"I know," Raoul said. "But right now that's not my problem. I need you to do this Seward. I promise this will be over soon."

"Fine. But you owe me."

"Sounds like a deal. Thanks." Of course, Raoul hoped he would make it out alive to fulfill that promise. Then again, he wasn't going to voice that concern to Seward.

Back at the present, Christine lowered her eyes and stared intently at her nails. As much as she was pissed at him, she knew Raoul wouldn't do something as callous as abandon Van Helsing. And for her to accuse him of doing or even thinking about it was more hurtful than anything. It meant that after all those years together she couldn't trust him to do the right thing. And perhaps that could be argued on what the right thing really was… but when it came to Van Helsing the answer was obviously black and white.

"I know," she whispered, loud enough for Raoul to hear, but it was as close to an apology he was going to get on this matter anyways. And for now it was something he could take and cling to. They still had a lot of issues between them, but this was progress. Albeit a small one.

Nadir drove until dawn was approaching, and after stopping to fill up his tank, they found a motel not too far from the highway. It wasn't the best looking and could be questionable about its standards, but the way Nadir put it:

"We only need the beds to rest that's all."

Of course, one could argue those beds may not be the best shape either, but the young couple was too tired to argue or protest.

Christine didn't resist when Raoul took her by the arm and helped her to the ground level room. The inside was just as promising as the outside. It was musty and the rancid smell of peroxide and alcohol still lingered. Yet, no one cared at the moment as the bed did look quite inviting.

There were only two beds, but Raoul still had enough adrenaline running through him to keep watch for an hour or two so Nadir could get some rest. After two hours passed, the men switched spots. While Raoul slept, Nadir kept watched.

Even though the daylight provided some shield and shelter, they could not afford to let their guards down. They were miles away from the city, but that didn't mean the devil didn't have its ways. And once the young man had enough sleep they had to leave. Nadir didn't like being in one place for long, especially on a hunt or a chase, but while he was used to this kind of life… his two companions were not.

He figured he would give Raoul at least ten more minutes before they left. The more miles they can put behind them, and then they would have a better chance at finding a decent hiding spot to plot the next move.

Christine shifted on top of the bed and opened her eyes. She was feeling better now after getting rid of all that exhaustion, but she was still tired from the emotional roller coaster from the last twenty-four hours. Stifling a yawn, Christine pushed herself up and saw Raoul was sleeping on the other bed and caught Nadir watching her from his chair by the window.

"Miss Daaé." He gave her a slight nod in greeting.

"Mr. Khan." She did the same.

"How do you feel?"

She gave him a look that read _how do you think I fucking feel_? The Persian sighed and stood from his spot to walk over to her.

"We'll be leaving soon so I strongly suggest you take care of what needs to be taken care of before we hit the road."

"All my stuff is at Raoul's place."

"Yes but I was referring to something else. I hope you had cleared your mind of all this nonsense and re-prioritize your stance so we can get back to the original mission."

"And what the Hell is that supposed to mean?" she retorted.

"Not long ago you were willing to help us. Now you are confusing everything and yourself. Need I remind you of the demon's sins? The pain and horror those women had to experience in their final seconds of precious life?"

"I'm not a child," Christine said. "I know what happened to them, and I do feel bad, awful about their deaths, but I _know _Erik. Despite his sins and what you say about him, I love him. I will always love him. Perhaps you clouded my mind and judgment and now I am finally seeing things clearly."

"Are you now?" Nadir said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, I guess you won't be surprised to hear what your lover has done after we left the cemetery."

"What are you talking about?" Christine asked. In the back of her mind, she knew what Nadir was going to say and she refused to let him get to her.

"Look." He pointed to the television, which she noticed was on but it had been on mute. Picking up the remote, Nadir turned up the volume as the newscaster reported on the latest deaths that happened in New York City.

"_It has been confirmed that at least three more bodies have been found. Sources are saying these latest victims of are the elusive and mysterious 'Phantom' leaving behind no fingerprints and no witnesses. Yet, the killer is becoming careless as the bodies were not hidden like the others. Police are saying the cause of death was mutilation and are still trying to identify the victims…"_

Nadir clicked it off and turned to the young woman with a furious gaze. "How many more bodies Miss Daaé!?" he demanded, his voice rising. "How many more innocent people need to die and be sacrificed to his bloodlust? What do you think will happen if you returned to him? Do you think you could stop him? Keep him from murdering? Don't be so naïve! It is a _vampire_! It will keep killing and feeding until it is stopped. So if I were you I will start rethinking what your choices are and how it will affect not only your close ones but the rest of the world. Think about those new victims. What are their families going to think? How are they going to live when a monster took away their loved ones? It could be a neighbor or a co-worker next. Then what Miss Daaé? Will you mourn? Will you apologize because Erik was only doing what he could to survive?"

She didn't say a word, only stared at the blank TV screen.

Knowing he got his point across, Nadir didn't say anything else to her and went ahead and woke up Raoul. Once they were ready, they headed back to the car and Nadir continued to drive.

Christine was silent again and she didn't fight or try to take off when they exited a ramp to stop to get some fresh clothes and toiletry items from a strip mall and pharmacy. Afterwards, they got back on the road and looked for a rest stop so they could change and freshen up.

Christine knew the men didn't trust her as they took turns in the bathroom while one would stay with her in the car. Then when it was her turn, Raoul was the one who escorted her to the ladies room. Luckily, they were the only car in the rest area so Raoul went ahead and went inside the women's bathroom.

He kept his back to her while she changed into the new clothes and Christine appreciated the little privacy he tried to give her, despite she was being watched like a hawk.

Once she was done, they were back on the expressway. It gave Christine plenty of time to think, especially what Nadir had said back at the motel. He was right. She was naïve to think she could put a stop to Erik's bloodlust. He wouldn't be able to help it and she thought about the alternatives… stealing from a blood bank or the Red Cross and guilt entered her mind. People willingly donated blood to save lives and in a way they would be… but what about those people who need blood for surgery or transfusions? If she or Erik took what was already a short supply, then people will die.

Either way she looked at it there would always be death surrounding them. Not unless Erik was out of the picture…

People will still die but this time it would be of natural causes.

And she had to wonder… could she handle it?

Could she handle the guilt knowing Erik was taking away a father, mother, grandparent, aunt, uncle? Could she handle it if Erik accidentally fed on someone she knew?

She knew the time had come for her to make a decision. And this time this decision would not be reversed. It would be what it was for the rest of her life. There will be no going back. This was the past the point of no return and she had to ask herself the one question that was hanging over her head:

Could she live with that decision for the rest of her life?

TBC…


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: Hi everyone! I wanted to give a quick shout-out for everyone reading and reviewing before I leave for work. Thank you so much! I know how much you love the cliffhangers *evil grins* and believe me when I'm saying these cliffies are minor compared to my other stories. I still have friends and family sending me death threats for a sequel to _Anonymous_ and of course… my vampire novella _Pearl_. Not that I'm doing any shameless self-promoting (check out my bio if you're interested…) Lol, all right enough of me talking.

**Chapter 32**

It didn't give him much pleasure in doing what he had to do. Naturally, the demon was hungering more for the blood of the two men who dared to take Christine away from him… those others… they were in the wrong place at the wrong time and they did fulfill their purpose in allowing him to heal from his wounds. At least it was enough to soothe the demon's demand for their heads on a platter.

Erik could feel his strength returning as he nearly collapsed in his coffin.

Yes… his coffin.

Unfortunately, he couldn't take the risk once he realized there was a hunter on his tail. He had Buquet remove the coffin and relocate to a new hiding spot so he wouldn't be found in the apartment. And sadly… it also meant Erik had to say goodbye to the possessions left behind.

Most regrettably, the piano and his music.

And the bed. He found that he really liked sleeping on a bed after all these years. But… it wasn't the same without Christine at his side.

_Christine…_

How did everything go to Hell so quickly?

The last thing he predicted would happen was when Christine discovered his true self. Of course, he had only himself to blame. If he hadn't bitten her in his excitement… Christine wouldn't have his mark and he wouldn't have had to compel her to cover it up.

That had been completely stupid and reckless on his part.

He never meant to intentionally bite her… it simply happened. And at that moment… when she saw her blood on his lips… he would never forget the horror in her eyes for as long as he walked on this earth. For once, Erik panicked. He never panicked in his whole life not even when he was alive. It was an emotion he never had experienced in dealing with.

How could he?

Erik was always in control. Even if the demon had convinced him to do some of the unspeakable acts he committed, Erik still felt the power of life and death in his hands. He could control if the victim should live or not.

But with Christine…

That was something entirely different. So he did what he had to do to protect himself and to protect the love he had with her. Losing her was never an option.

Yet, somehow… despite the precautions he made… she remembered it.

She confronted him in her dressing room and spoke that one dreaded word.

_Vampire_.

How that happened Erik didn't know. She shouldn't have remembered it. She shouldn't have known and once more that same feeling began to take hold.

Panic.

Even the demon recognized the potential danger right there with her knowing. It was already convinced that Christine was what he needed, and it could not allow her to slip away.

Or the very least… run from the room.

Looking back, Erik knew he had been too rough with her. Animalistic to be exact.

But it was in his nature… and knowing Christine could end things between them… Erik reacted with his basic desire and the demon leapt at the chance to show her exactly who she was dealing with. Not to mention, Erik would be lying if he didn't admit he got a thrill in controlling her, making her bend to his will. It didn't help either that she liked it too. Taking in the scent of her arousal was enough to drive him wild and it only enflamed him to show her what he was capable of doing.

And that she thoroughly enjoyed it.

Perhaps, that was part of her turmoil. She was probably disgusted with herself that she could desire a bloodthirsty monster like him and to allow him to assault her person so viciously without putting up a fight…

But as Erik told her. They were connected. Even if Christine wanted to sever the bond, she wouldn't be able to and she would find herself back in his mercy. She belonged to him and the demon. And if she needed time to come to that realization, then he could grant her that.

When he got that phone call from the Giry girl… it confirmed his suspicions that Christine was deeply conflicted. She told him that Christine would certainly return to him because she still loved him. And if she still loved him then it was not too late to make it right with her.

However, he had not expected the change of events that would occur. Nor did he expect the agonizing stab of Christine ripping herself away from him. That was too painful to bear and the demon was wailing in its loss. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be! Her friend assured him she would come back to him! How could Christine do this to him?

He tried to throw his thoughts out to find her… to make her stop… but he had no idea where she was. It was when he heard her scream for him that he was able to sense her location.

The ex.

Obviously the boy was involved in having her breaking the bond. Well, he had to show the insolent creature what he was messing with and how the demon was not to be reckoned.

Of course, he had not counted on finding out there was a hunter. Growling to himself, it wasn't just any hunter… it was the Persian. Erik knew him immediately and it all made sense now.

_He _was responsible for the pain in separating him from Christine. And _he w_as responsible in making sure Erik could not get into the apartment to steal her away.

The demon was loathed to leave, but with the threat of the immediate sunrise, Erik had to leave her. But not without promising to himself he would find a way… and he knew how.

What little good that ended up doing with sending Giry into the mix. Christine ran from her and Meg was unable to respond when he tried contacting her. He was only grateful that Christine was exposed to the world and not trapped by the silver or holy blessings. Tracking her was easier and he almost had her in his grasp.

Until those fools ruined everything.

Now, Erik was back at square one. He knew the men and Christine had left the city, and unfortunately, he was stuck until night appeared. At that point, they would have already enough miles behind them and they could be anywhere. And with that far of a distance, combined with the very weak strains between them, Erik would not be able to find Christine unless she should contact him.

Meanwhile, Erik couldn't stay in New York City anymore. With the new bodies he had been sloppy and he didn't want to deal with the possibility of the police actually finding him.

So as soon as nighttime came, Erik ordered Buquet to make himself ready and quickly.

They had a lot of driving to do.

xxXXxx

A sign reading, "Come check out the country sights of Amish Pennsylvania, 5 miles on Exit 7D," was the first clue for Christine to realize how far they had traveling. She hadn't known up until now and was going to ask where they were going, but Raoul beat her to it.

"So how far should we go?"

Nadir shrugged. "Far enough where it will take the demon a while to find us and just enough for us to restock our weapons and come up with a decent plan. Then we will be ready."

No one had to ask what the Persian meant by "ready." However, Raoul didn't like they were traveling into different states. "How do we know it won't stay and kill more people? We should at least go back."

"It won't. It only needed blood to heal itself. That should last it for some time unless the demon decides it could use some blood amusement. And as long as we have Miss Daaé, the demon will spend its energy looking for her. It no doubt sees her as a mate and will want to keep her by its side. I wouldn't be surprised if his lackeys are on the road as we speak."

"Shit," the young man muttered. "In that case… I don't think I want to go through round two with Meg. She sure can pack a punch."

"That maybe so, but somehow… it wouldn't be a wise decision to have her come after us."

Off Raoul's look, Nadir elaborated. "It knows Miss Daaé does not approve of her friend being exploited. The demon would be fighting to allow the use of someone close to her to retrieve her, but after what happened back in the city… it won't be willing to risk Miss Daaé running away again."

"So we should be prepared just in case we come face to face with a stranger."

"I would say so. We know Buquet and Miss Giry are touched. We will be able to seek them out in a second."

"Unless it does something unpredictable," Raoul commented.

Nadir nodded, a grim expression coming over his features. "I hope you know… you will have to prepare yourself to shoot. Even shoot to kill."

"I know," Raoul answered solemnly. In fact, the thought crossed his mind more than once. But when it came to Christine's safety… he would be willing to put aside his misgivings and stop anyone from taking her. If the situation proved to be nowhere out but his weapon… Raoul would not think twice about using deadly force if necessary.

"Do you understand Miss Daaé?" Nadir asked, looking in the rearview mirror to make sure she was following the rather unpleasant conversation. "This might be nothing new for you to swallow with the demon since you are not averse to its gory appetite. For us… you might think it immoral even barbaric if we were to kill innocent people."

_You have no idea what I think of you_, she thought. "If you are expecting me to plead for mercy on behalf of your better side… I wouldn't hold your breath. I haven't seen any signs you have a heart, except that you're a living person."

Nadir chuckled. "Touché. Well, there is hope that you might come around, especially if a person has you at gunpoint. Your opinion will quickly change."

"Are you trying to prove something? What are you expecting from me anyways?" Christine demanded. "Because I can tell you… I would rather see you burn in Hell."

"Miss Daaé, I assure you, I have been there. Even had first class tickets to and back."

Christine crossed her arms and fell back against her seat. She found occupation in watching the scenery passing them by. At least she wouldn't have to look or speak to that infuriating son of a bitch hunter.

Raoul glared at the Persian. "Look, I get how this bastard means to you. Been dealing with them all my life. But really… there is a better way in handling this without having the two of you pissing in each other's corners."

"That's a lovely sight," she snorted.

Ignoring her, Raoul continued. "You had a shitty encounter with it and she has had shitty encounters with the two of us. Can we call it a truce in the mean time? Or at least until we find a place to stop. Then be my guest in going after each other's throats. Because honestly… I'm getting cabin fever."

In reply, both Nadir and Christine did not say a word and Raoul took that as consent. And to make sure that they remained silent, he turned on the radio to an old classic rock station. Now, the car ride could be a little more bearable and a welcoming distraction from conversations and future potential arguments that would not take long to ignite. It also gave each individual time to think about the given situation without the input of the others present.

For Raoul, he was thinking about how he was going to kill Erik and move on with his life. To be optimistic, he figured making future plans would keep the notion of imminent death away. He knew Harker had to be shitting rocks with the new bodies and was wondering where the Hell he was since Raoul was the man with the information and leads. And when Raoul returned to the PD, he would be fired so he had to start thinking of a new career. Perhaps, he would go back to Essex County. It was a small enough town and he did liked it even though he wanted to be with the NYPD. That or another state… he heard Michigan had decent weather and their hockey team wasn't half bad.

The Persian was looking forward to this confrontation with his ancestor's friend. The one elusive foe that had always been within his grasp, but constantly slipping away… But not this time. Oh no… He will have his revenge in avenging the deaths of his wife and son. He would bring their souls peace and his own too. Then it would be a matter of time before he will meet his final end. He needed this last glorious moment and he will gladly succumb to the eternal oblivion. _Let me have this victory, Allah. Let me prove myself worthy of my family's name before granting me paradise._

And lastly, there was Christine. As much as the Persian pissed her off, she begrudgingly admitted to herself he was right. Not in everything… but he did make some good points, especially the fact they might have to physically stop one of Erik's servants. It didn't sit well in her stomach and she didn't want neither of the men to end up in that situation where that was their only option. The Persian might have lacked the conscience in preventing him from the extreme action, but Raoul… she did worry about him.

Damn that man…

Despite everything, they shared a history and Christine could not turn her back on that completely. She hated his guts now, but there was a spot in her heart for him. Nothing romantic… that door had closed for good. She couldn't risk her heart again not after how Raoul broke it in the first place.

Which her mind led to the next nail-biting, stress inducing decision.

The one that could potentially result in life or death.

She thought hard and long about her choice. She weighed the pros and cons and found herself willing to accept this fate.

It wouldn't be easy… at least not at first. And it would hurt her, but at least she wouldn't have to live with the constant guilt. And for the most part that was what boiled down to it: The guilt.

She would have to be strong and not look back, and although there will always be guilt, this would not be as painful if she went the other way.

_God forgive me for what I am about to do._

xxXXxx

Nadir's destination happened to be Pittsburgh, which was not a first choice that neither Raoul nor Christine would have picked. But the way Nadir explained it was simple and logical.

"Small towns talk and will bring suspicion to us, especially with the supplies we are going to need. In the city, no one will think twice and we can go to multiple stores to get what we need."

First things first were to find a place to stay. They did manage to get a hotel room. This one was a better quality than the motel and everything looked clean. Nadir paid in cash, which his companions did not question where he got it. Frankly, they didn't care and he didn't volunteer. Only Raoul assumed it was part of the skills set the Persian had to learn for this lifestyle.

Once they were alone in the privacy of their new sanctuary, Nadir started making a list of supplies they were going to need. Silver, of course, being at the top of the list. Then he handed the paper to Raoul and a wad of cash he was going to need.

The young man looked at him stupidly. "I'm the errand boy?"

Nadir narrowed his eyes at him impatiently. "Is the task going to be complicated for you _Officer_?"

Raoul growled. "Of course not. But I am wondering why it has to be me."

"Well, seeing how things went the last time… I figured it would be better if I stayed with Miss Daaé."

"Hey!" she protested. "Doesn't Miss Daaé have a say? I don't need a babysitter."

Both men gave her a look, which she crossed her arms over her chest and scowled. "Haven't I proven I can be good?"

The incredulous looks continued and she rolled her eyes. "Fine. Babysitter it is."

"And take this too." Nadir handed Raoul a disposable cell phone. "This is your new cell for now. The old one has to be destroyed."

Raoul fought back a smirk. "Already did that when we stopped for a break in Jersey. I don't know how much of an expert this thing is with technology, but I wasn't going to take any chances." And it would ensure that no one from his department would find him too.

Nadir nodded in approval. "Good. If you need me, I already programmed my new number."

"All right. I'll be back later. Any requests for dinner while I'm out?"

"Keep it simple and cheap," Nadir advised and Raoul gave one lasting look at Christine before he left.

Leaving Christine and Nadir alone. Again.

"You know… That was an awfully big chance you are taking with our past history and everything. Come to think of it, it seems like whenever we are alone together someone ends up tied up or poisoned," Christine commented. "How about we call another truce?"

The Persian agreed. "All right. It's fair. Have you given any thought on what I said this morning?"

Christine nodded. "Sadly, I have. It's been all I can think about if you haven't noticed from my lack of resistance. Well, the lack of me trying to escape."

"And what have you decided?"

She bit her lip. "First, I want to know something. You mentioned your family being murdered. I want to know what happened to them."

Somehow, Nadir wasn't surprised by her request. It was going to come up sooner or later and this young woman was inquisitive.

"Very well. Go ahead and sit."

When she did, Nadir started. "As you know my wife and son were killed and if you haven't figured it out yet… it was a vampire that killed them. But not any vampire." At this, Nadir's voice became dark as he practically spat out the word.

"Erik," Christine whispered, already knowing he had to figure in this some way. To have that kind of intense hatred for someone… they had to be involved in something huge.

"I hunted a vamp that was terrorizing in that area and it was there where I discovered a new lead. I knew it was him! He was close and one night I went out and when I returned…" Nadir closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his teeth as he was back in that motel room again. The blood! All that blood on the floor and walls… the bodies lying in a pool of their own blood, their mouths forever stuck in a silent scream.

"It was a warning to me that I was too close. And since I was too close and vulnerable…my family made perfect targets. I know they wouldn't have put up that much of a fight, which would make it very unsatisfying to the demon, but to know the chaos that would follow… it would be too delicious to pass up. Not only that but it was a reminder to put me in my place that while I was human with weaknesses, the demon does not.

"Afterwards, I vowed to Allah and my family that I would kill that son of a bitch demon as long as I still had breath in my lungs. I'm not getting younger and it would only be a matter of time before my time will come. But not until I can put their ghosts to rest for good. Do you want to know the worst part? My son… Reza was only seven-years-old. He barely lived his life. So you must forgive me when I have a hard time believing that Erik is different. The demon killed my family when he could have easily gone after me. No… instead he chose to go after them. This is personal Miss Daaé. I cannot let it slip away from me. Not this time."

While he spoke, Nadir pulled out his wallet and removed the picture of his family and showed it to her.

Christine looked down at the smiling faces, her finger softly touching Reza's huge grin as he held up a toy car that he just received for his birthday. Nadir's wife had her arm around her son, her eyes twinkling with amusement, and her hand was waving to the photographer, which had to be Nadir since he was not in the photo. The half-crescent moon necklace glowed around her neck as it was also enjoying this joyous occasion. They looked so happy and full of life that seeing their actual faces made it all the more real to her.

They were not people in a story… they had lived at one point and died horrendously.

She looked back up at Nadir who wasn't looking at her anymore. He was elsewhere she could tell—his dark eyes rimmed with tears.

It wasn't a trick. This wasn't some ploy to make her feel sorry for him. Everything was real… the photo, his painful words, his sorrowful expression. He was a man haunted by their deaths and for the first time Christine felt pity for the hunter. No one and she meant no one should suffer like this. No one should have to find their loved ones massacred, especially from the way he found them.

"I think I could have handled it better if they were fed upon," Nadir said suddenly. "Hell, if it even fucking changed them. At least I could give peace to their souls. It wouldn't be easy… but I can take back that control and do what I know best. But it wasn't. All that blood. It wasn't for survival. It was cold murder. Plain and simple."

"I'm sorry," Christine said quietly as she continued to stare down at their picture. "I lost my parents in a car accident. Drunk driver. It's not the same by any means, but their deaths were never easy to get over with."

She handed the photo back to him. "Mr. Khan… Nadir, you know how I feel. You know I love Erik."

"Yes," he nodded.

"Which makes it harder for me to say this, but I have given this a lot of thought. As much as I hate to admit this… I know the truth and it's the right thing to do considering the consequences."

Christine paused as she looked him dead in the eye.

"I will help you stop Erik. Once and for all."

TBC…

I'm sorry the beginning with Erik wasn't anything exciting, but I wanted to quickly recap those chapters that did not have his point of view so we can understand his reasons for doing what he did. And… to get him to leave the city. And mix it up with all the Nadir, Raoul, and Christine chapters. But we are getting to the climax, my dearies, and this is all necessary to lead up to the showdown.

Also, I know a lot of you probably want to have my head served on a dish for that cliffy, but fear not! I have reasons for the things I do and I shall not keep you in suspense for long. Well… at least until next week. Hey, don't blame me! Erik made me do it.


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: Thank you everyone for reviewing! Last chapter was a little crazy with Christine's announcement… but hang in there! Also, I have never been to Danforth, Maine before. In fact, I have never traveled out that way so a lot of this is made up and from what I can find on the Internet. I apologize if my descriptions are not accurate or true, but I found the name and thought where it was located would be perfect for what I have planned. And, of course, don't forget to review!

**Chapter 33**

"…seven…eight…nine…ten…"

Christine closed her eyes and once more she was under the Persian's trance. Beforehand, he had asked if she was willing to try finding Erik by using the bond between them.

"It might be difficult and it might take a couple of tries… but I think as long as you want this Miss Daaé you can find him. All you need to do is clear your mind of any outside distractions and focus on him. Conjure his image in your head and stare into his eyes… then try to see through them. If the theory is correct, you should be able to infiltrate his thoughts… feel what he is doing, what he is thinking, and most importantly, see where he is."

The first attempt turned up nothing. The second time she was almost there. Now, they were going for a third try and Christine kept in mind, _third's time the charm_. At least, she was counting that saying would hold true in this scenario. She took a few deep breaths and blocked out everything around her, except the Persian's voice, as he guided her through the hypnosis process.

Her mind was empty of all thoughts and she called up a picture of Erik to appear before her eyes. That part was easy. After all, Erik was someone you could not forget, unless he wished you to. But she couldn't think of his compulsions now… or how he used that power of his on her. No… she had to focus on his image.

Parts of him appeared one by one… first his body, his great and imposing stature, then his clothes… his traditional dark clothing molded to his form, and his hair—black as ink and soft to the touch—his brilliant turquoise eyes, so bright and luminous that you could drown in them, and at last his mask… That half-shaped white porcelain fitted to his right cheek, covering up his horrible deformity.

Christine captured that moment and froze the picture. She stared into his eyes, imagining what it would be like to see the world from his point of view. As she felt herself creeping closer to him she started to fall… fall into those swirling orbs and at last she was feeling a rampant range of emotions.

It worked. It actually worked! She projected herself into Erik's mind and she was able to gain access to his memories, his feelings, and his physical being.

She had to admit. It was amazing; this connection they had. It was certainly like she was being one with him spiritually and mentally. And she was certain if she focused hard enough… she could go through those memories and recall his reasons for compelling Meg, and of course, herself.

However, she had a goal to focus on, and unfortunately, it was not to sift through his memory files. Using every ounce of concentration she had, Christine stretched out her mind to fully merge with Erik. If she could do this… then she would be able to pick up on clues as to where he was hiding and whether or not if he was still in New York City. And since there has not been any news of anymore latest victims of the Phantom in the last twenty-four hours, it would be safe to assume he was going to lay low from his blood sources.

Almost there… ah…

Right away she knew he wasn't in New York City anymore. He still felt some pain from the silver bullets, but the fresh blood from those three victims was helping a great deal and the poison was running through the end of its course. In a day or two, Christine knew the silver would not be in his system anymore and the pain would be gone.

How did she know?

Well… Erik knew.

From that, she tried to seek for any signs of where his location might be. She took a deep breath, hoping to catch a scent of some kind. Erik might not have the need to breathe, but he had to have his sense of smell. And when she did… she caught a whiff of what smelled like salty air.

Christine tried to use her hearing now, to see if he was nearby what she suspected. Sure enough, she could hear what sounded like waves of water hitting the shore. And with his sensitive hearing, every stroke of water coming to land was loud slaps and she could hear the sloshing rising against something hard.

Water… water meant an ocean or a lake. And the waves had to be hitting a dock of some kind.

She tried to see if she could get him to open his eyes. This occurred smoothly now that Christine had an idea what she was doing. She felt his eyelids lift and the right side scratch against his mask. As he was a creature of the night, his vision immediately adjusted to the darkness and to see every little detail when it was pitch black… it was almost like having your own pair of night-vision goggles. But for Erik, what he was seeing would be like what a normal person would see during the day.

Unfortunately, what she could see… there was not a lot of detail. The walls were solid and the windows were blackened out, wait… they were blocked out with pieces of wood and nails, something an abandon building might have if it was condemned or to prevent vandals from breaking inside. As she looked around, she noticed that it was an old building, a warehouse to be exact. There wasn't much inside but she was lying in something… something soft and comfortable.

Using her fingers, she caressed the material and realized it was slightly padded. And as she stretched out she met a hard surface. Then she took her other hand and stretched it out and met the same hard surface about the same distance. Whatever this thing was… she was lying in it, but she was also standing… like the object was propped up against something. Christine thought she might be able to get him to move so she could get a better look around, but her body was weak.

She didn't have the energy to move the body away, and it felt like she was more pinned to the object rather than simply lying. Even the slightest of movements was an exertion. Christine was confused by this for a second before it clicked.

Erik was a vampire and it was daylight. Of course, he would feel weak! The sun was probably keeping him still, but she spent time with him during the day… Erik didn't have that happen so why now?

Rest… He was resting now so to gather and build up his strength. That's right. He wouldn't be able to move much unless he woke up.

So while Christine was seeing through his eyes… Erik was actually asleep.

Confusing, but it made sense.

But what on earth was Erik sleeping on?

Christine turned her face to the side and then up and noticed it was a pentagonal shape and the cushion was covering the whole thing…

Coffin!

She was lying in a coffin!

She tried not to panic, but then she remembered that the lid was not over him… so she wasn't trapped. She had to get a tight rein over her emotions or she might disturb Erik's rest and she did not want to think what would happen if he knew she was currently in his mind. She didn't want to test the possibility that while she had control over him, he could have control over her.

Speaking of which, Christine decided it was time to end the session. She wasn't going to find any more clues not when Erik was incapacitated. They would have to try again later when he was awake. And that was something Christine was going to have convince herself in doing.

She opened her eyes, breaking the connection, and saw there was some hope in the Persian's eyes. Even though the information she told him was vague it was definitely a work in progress.

"I have a feeling we will have him soon. We'll try again tonight when he is walking. If we're in luck, he might go outside and we will have a better idea where he is hiding now. Good job Miss Daaé. I knew you could do it."

xxXXxx

Raoul returned some hours later with silver and other supplies. He was stunned when Nadir told him that he and Christine were successful in getting herself to merge with the vampire. At first, the thought of Christine merging anything with that thing, especially _her mind_, was disgusting and not to mention risky. Raoul was furious that the Persian would allow such an experiment to take place when it could have backfired.

"What if it knows where we are now?" Raoul demanded.

"It doesn't. Luckily, it was sleeping when Miss Daaé was put under. No harm would come to her and I was here to monitor her just in case something went wrong. But as you can see… it didn't. And we are going to try again."

"Again?" Raoul repeated, dumbfounded (but not surprised) that Nadir wanted to do it anything. What was more shocking was that Christine was willing to do it again and to learn she was coming to their aid now and was going to help them.

He glanced at her and Christine nodded in confirmation. She could see that Raoul wanted to be happy about this development, but there was skepticism in his blue eyes and she couldn't blame him. After everything… she would be skeptical too.

"It's true Raoul," she told him. "My feelings haven't changed. I love him. But this has to end. I don't want there to be any more bodies. There has been enough bloodshed and I don't want another innocent person getting caught in the crossfire."

"Really?" he had to ask. "Are you positive Christine? Because the only way to stop Erik is to…"

"I know," she interrupted. "I know what needs to be done. I don't like that it has to be that way, but I understand it's the only way."

He regarded her with a tilt of his head, reading her. Then a smile slowly began to break across his face. "All right then. Good to have you back Christine." Then his expression swiftly changed. "You are not seriously considering in doing the 'mind merging' thing again, are you?"

"What other choice is there Raoul?" Christine sighed. "I'm the only one who can do this. But don't worry… Nadir and I went out to get some items to make sure there won't be any problems on this side when I'm under the trance."

She went over to the side of the room and picked up a bag. "Look. We have rope to tie me up and—"

"Are those fuzzy handcuffs?" Raoul asked, bewildered.

At this the Persian looked away and Christine sheepishly blushed. "Well, buying normal handcuffs are not easy to come by as you think and the only way we could buy them without someone asking questions was… and some people find them kinky…"

"But they're not that strong," Raoul commented, pulling on the links. Christine quickly snatched them before he could break them.

"If you keep doing that, then yeah, it won't work." She brushed back her hair. "It's more of a piece of mind."

Raoul gave up. "You're going to do it no matter what so I guess there's no changing your mind. When do you plan on doing this session again?"

"Tonight," Nadir answered. "Once darkness falls over, the creature can lurk outside its captivity and we will be able to capture a solid lead. In the meantime, we have about three hours before sunset. So let's go ahead and start working on our ammunition."

xxXXxx

The time flew by quickly and the sun was already setting by the time they finished enough bullets for one of the guns. It was an interesting process that both Christine and Raoul had to admit. Clearly, Nadir had the whole thing down-pat when it came to melting silver and molding them into bullets while staying in a hotel room. He had a mini fan in the trunk of his car to help the bullets cool off faster by setting it in front of them.

So while the silver was cooling, the men started to prepare Christine for the hypnotic session. She sat in the desk chair that came provided in the room and they used the rope to secure her to the back. There were two sets of the handcuffs they bought for each wrist and it kept her locked in at the arms of the chair. Nadir had cleaned off his wife's half-moon necklace to make sure there were no more traces of the poison he had used earlier… and blessed it in holy water and put it around Christine's neck.

"It might burn you if he decided to enter your body," Nadir warned her and she nodded.

"Got it."

"But once he knows about the necklace, I'm counting on that he won't do anything that could cause harm to you."

Christine swallowed hard. "Okay, let's do this."

Raoul had his arms wrapped around his waist as he watched her, concern written all over his face. This was a lot to ask of her, but Christine was adamant in doing this and she had been right… she was the only one that could do this. He could only hope that the bastard would keep to himself and not mess with Christine's body.

Nadir took his spot in front of her and began to follow the procedure that would put Christine under his trance. When she was out, Raoul gritted his teeth and waited for her to reach out and reconnect to Erik.

When her breathing became labored and her hands twitching, Nadir whispered, "She's in."

Like before, Christine felt the impact of the flooding of her senses: the burning taste of salt on her tongue, her nostrils picking up the musty scent of rotten wood and dank air. But also like last time, she had full control of Erik's body, even though she knew he was awake. He had been currently walking out of the building when she entered his mind… but this wasn't what she had expected. She thought there would be some resistance, maybe Erik reaching back and talking to her, trying to persuade her to return… but there was nothing.

He wasn't even thinking aloud.

It was strange… even more so when Erik stood at the edge of the dock and gazed out into the water. With his supernatural vision, she saw the outline edge of land on the other side and without having to guess… she sensed it was Canada.

She was looking out to Canada.

So far, so good.

Then Erik turned back as the sound of braking tires captured his attention. He walked towards the vehicle just as Joseph Buquet was coming out. The older man eagerly met up with his master, his expression all excited.

"No one suspects a thing master," he said. "Your identity is safe. No one has been following us."

"So the boy did not tell his friends who I am, hmmm," Erik hummed in thought. "I thought a police officer's duty was to share all information about a suspect. Not withhold it."

"Well, I did the research like you requested. Any leads are still contained in the NYC area."

"For now," Erik included. "Eventually, he would tell his associates about the monster and they will come hunting. But they won't find anything. Not if I have anything to do about it."

"Master, you should leave. I can get us out of here, out of the country. You can forget—"

Erik was on him faster than Christine could blink. His hand wrapped around Buquet's throat, squeezing hard while the poor man struggled to break from the powerful grip.

"Don't you ever… ever speak like that again," Erik ordered and let go so Buquet could gasp for air. "No… we will stay here until I say otherwise."

Buquet nodded, not speaking.

"I feel better but I think shall go into town… see what I can find for refreshment. I want you to stay here and guard my coffin while I'm gone. If anyone comes by, keep them busy until I return. I'll make sure they won't remember a thing."

"Y-yes Master," Buquet croaked.

"I believe I saw some fish flies near the dock. Wouldn't hurt to check them out."

At the mention of flies, Buquet perked up and started to head in that direction. Christine didn't want to know why that would appeal to the older man.

Instead of getting into the car, Erik walked down the stretch of winding and hilly road. It had been implied what Erik was looking for and as much as she didn't want to be a witness or a participant, she knew she had to stick with him longer until she could get a name to pinpoint his whereabouts.

He was growing stronger, his body moving silently and deftly, and the pain was practically gone. But he needed some extra sustenance to sustain him since he did feed mainly to heal his wounds and poison. That supply took a lot to do the trick and now the demon was craving something more to fill the hunger.

Erik had walked about ten miles, although it felt less compared to the speed he was traveling by. He came upon what looked like a typical quiet New England town with historical looking buildings along Main Street. There weren't that many people out wandering and Erik kept to the shadows as he stood and watched over the unknowing populace.

He caught sight of a woman leaving a bar, stumbling as she was walking across the street to where her car was parked. She bent down to unlock the door and dropped the keys. Giggling to herself, she continued to bend even further to get them. Once they were in her grasp, she picked herself up and got the key inside the car when…

A soft voice started singing.

Abruptly, she stopped what she was doing, her head cocked in concentration. Then… slowly, she turned around as if she searched for the voice.

Christine held her breath, not sure what Erik's next move was going to be, but she had to hold on longer.

He stopped singing and the woman shrugged and went inside her car. The engine started and she made a U-turn as she drove away. Christine thought it meant this was the end. She didn't fall for his ploy, despite being intoxicated, but to her surprise, Erik was already running on foot, his gaze fixed on the retreating car and prey.

Christine soon realized he wanted her outside the town's limits and she found out the reason when she felt a burst of speed as Erik leapt towards the car. His back slammed against the hood, rolling off to the grassy embankment when the woman hit her brakes, the car skidding to a sudden stop. There was a sob and a shout before Christine could hear the car door fly open and the inebriated woman coming towards them.

"Heey," she slurred. "You okay, buddy? Fuck, look I didn't see. Oh holy fuck!"

Once she was within arm's reach, Erik seized her ankle and with one pull he had her flying over him, sprawled out on the ground. Standing up, he lifted her by her shirt as she fought and kicked him. But Erik tossed her on her back again and she let out a huge gasp as the wind was knocked out of her.

_Have to hang on_, Christine thought. _Have to hang on before he—_

She didn't have time to finish the thought as Erik had the woman by her throat. He had her neck bent and Christine felt the change over his face as the demon was released. The woman screamed only for Erik to silence her with a look and a single demand. As she went limp in his arms and complacent to his whims, Christine did manage to have him turn his face to see a giant sign by the town.

She quickly let herself go just as Erik sank his incisors into the woman's throbbing vein.

Christine jumped in her seat, her eyes wide and chest heaving with the exertion to get away before she could attest to Erik's snack. Tears squeezed out at the corner of her lashes as she shook from the memory of being on the hunt with Erik. She would never forget how that felt… to smell her fear before he compelled the woman to be quiet. She didn't want to think about it anymore, even though she knew that the woman's face would be forever imprinted in her mind.

As she snapped out of the trance, Raoul and Nadir were quickly attending her. The rope was loosened and the cuffs undone and she had a glass of water in her hand, courtesy of Raoul. She took a sip and then a huge gulp to quench the dryness in her throat. But the wait was causing Nadir to grow impatient as he demanded, "Where is he?"

Christine swallowed her water. "Danforth," she answered. "Danforth, Maine."

The Persian let out a holler of praise to Allah while Raoul breathed in relief. She glanced around and noticed the room was still the same.

"I take it nothing happened over here?" she asked.

Raoul nodded. "Nothing. But are you okay? You were pretty agitated a few minutes ago."

"It was nothing," she quickly replied. "I was in Erik's mind and I found out where he is hiding."

"Yeah… but are you sure you're all right? Christine, you're white as a ghost."

"I'm fine Raoul. I just want some space to breathe, okay?" Christine stood on her shaky legs. "I'm not used to going into and leaving other people's heads."

However, the look on his face was anything but convinced. "Did something happen? Did Erik—?"

"No! He didn't do anything. I'm going outside for air." She left the room and Raoul's natural instinct was to chase after her, but he was stopped with Nadir's hand on his shoulder.

"Let her be. We have the vampire where we want him and since it did not cross over to her body we are safe to assume it does not know that we are intending to go after it."

"Great," Raoul said with feign cheer. "But that doesn't tell me how Christine is doing."

Nadir sighed. "She just did us an incredible favor by locating it. Give her a few minutes to herself and then bring her in. We still have more bullets to make."

_Back to business_, Raoul thought grimly. _Guess that will never change_.

Like the Persian said, Raoul gave Christine ten minutes before he brought her back to the room. The break was well needed and she had some color return to her cheeks and she was no longer shaky. To his shock, Christine was ready to get back to work and no one else spoke another word about her experience that night.

xxXXxx

The next morning the group packed up all their meager belongings and newly made weapons. Now that they have a destination in mind it wouldn't be long before they crossed paths with Erik again.

As they pulled out of the parking lot to head north, no one noticed that another car pulled out too and headed for the same direction.

TBC…


	34. Chapter 34

A/N: Whew! It has been a hectic week! And... best thing was last night went to see The Birds on the big screen and Tippi Hedren was there to talk to us! I love my horror and suspense movies and Alfred Hitchcock is one of my faves. So yes... best night ever! Lol.

But here it is! The next installment! Also, tomorrow I'm going to post a short story to start off the month of October called _Love Never Dies_ and it will be under the Love Never Dies section. There's a reason I kept the title the same and it is a very morbid twist to the end of the musical. So… if you're interested keep an eye open or if you have me under Author Alert, check it out. If you like my dark stories, then you will like this. Although, I have a feeling that someone is going to say I defiled the characters, but oh well.

One last thing before I let you read... I don't normally do this unless I find a story that is so exceptionally good and I think everyone should check it out: emeraldphan's The Past is Another Country. This story takes the ending of Phantom and fills in the gaps of the years to Love Never Dies told in Gustave's point of view. But this is unlike any other POV story. This is from an older Gustave's perspective who is looking back on his years as a child, and of course, what it was like living with his real father. Trust me, you don't want to miss this.

Here you go and don't forget to review!

**Chapter 34**

"So… you're really okay with this?" Raoul asked Christine for the umpteenth time.

She sighed. "Yes, Raoul. I told you already that I'm okay with this. I gave it plenty of thought and I know this is the right thing to do. He has killed too many people as it is and he was using Meg and poor Buquet as his minions. I'm not okay with that. So yes… I am fine with this idea and I can handle it."

"I'm glad to hear that, but you know, we have to kill him. There is no other way."

"I know, I know." Christine looked out her window. "Believe me, I still wish it doesn't have to be that way, but I know compromises are not going to work. Erik will always need blood to survive and if the demon cannot be controlled… then we have to do the right thing no matter what. At least there will be more lives saved."

Raoul dropped the subject and concentrated on the road again. They took turns driving, even Christine, and stopping only when necessary for bathroom breaks and to eat. She even graduated to the passenger seat after they removed the childproof locks and she didn't try jumping from a moving vehicle. Nadir was sprawled out in the back, taking a snooze, while the young couple talked.

Yet, hard as he tried, Raoul still had a difficult time in believing Christine's sudden change in loyalty. He knew she was hiding something, but what he couldn't figure out. Even though the hypnosis proved to be full-proof, Raoul had to question her motives for giving away Erik's location. He had to wonder if it was real or was it a scheme to ambush them when they weren't looking.

After all, she had been pretty gun-ho in trying to escape to go back to Erik. Even at the cemetery. Raoul shuddered at how she had been walking towards Erik and her anguished screams and cries when he fired at the vampire. Whatever this hold Erik had over her… it was strong and powerful and it was unlike anything Raoul ever witnessed.

Of course, he did see her anger when she learned Meg was under his influence as well and she did escape from Meg… even though she would have been reunited with Erik if she had stayed with the blonde.

So why didn't she?

He watched her from the corner of his eye, searching for a clue to give him the answer he was looking for. Maybe with Meg, Christine finally came to her senses and left and then somehow ended up back under Erik's spell at the cemetery. She could very well be back to her old self and recognized the demon had to be stopped. He didn't question her love for the vampire. She believed she loved him and maybe she did… but the real truth couldn't be ignored.

Erik was a monster and as long as he was around… there will always be bodies popping up with punctured marks and the lack of blood in them.

Christine probably realized she couldn't live with that knowledge. It would eat her away knowing that whenever he would go out… there would be a body found and later reported on the news. Erik could even turn on her and that's a possible fact that no one wanted to believe.

When the demon's in control… there is no knowing what it would do.

But the fact remained… Christine was hiding something and Raoul was determined to figure out what it was.

xxXXxx

The perfect moment to mention this to Nadir came when Christine told him she needed to go to the bathroom. The rest stop came up about five miles later and while she hurried to the restroom, Raoul told Nadir of his suspicions.

"I don't think she's a 100% with us. For whatever reason, she is still holding a torch for that monster."

Nadir kicked at some loose gravel and shrugged. "So what if she does? Besides, she is leading us to _it_."

"Yeah or so we think. What if this is an ambush? What if she is leading us into a trap?" Raoul insisted.

Nadir chuckled. "Ah, my young friend. You have so much to learn and you are still thinking of the vampire as a _human_. What you are implying takes away something. The _thrill _of a hunt. The vampire won't set traps like that. The demon enjoys the chase and what kind of chase will there be if we were led to a trap?"

"It could be a trap. And then there will be a chase."

"Maybe, maybe not. It's a risk, yes? Of course. But we are not going in empty-handed. We have our weapons and don't forget. We have what it values most. As long as we have Miss Daaé we have leverage."

Raoul stuck his hands in his jean pockets and leaned against the car door. Nadir's words didn't sound that much of a reassurance. He couldn't help but be worried and the Persian didn't seem all that nonplussed about it.

"Listen," Nadir said quietly. "If you doubt her loyalty, then do not fret. Once the creature is dead she will be free. Completely and wholly free."

"Is that a guarantee?"

"Yes. Once it is dead then its powers will no longer have the strength to continue. Everyone will be normal again."

"I'm forgetting what normal is," Raoul muttered. "And how do I know if I will have my Christine back? She might love him for the rest of her life. Then where will I fit in?"

"Mr. de Chagny, the road to true love is never easy or smooth."

"Yes but—I did a lot of hurtful things to her. There are some things she won't forgive me for and I don't forgive myself either for my actions. And you know the worst part? The absolute kick in the balls?" Raoul pulled out the ring from his pocket and held it up to the sun, the diamond catching the light. "I was going to propose. I pretended to forget our anniversary so I would surprise her. Then this whole Grace case was blown out of control and the policeman in me took over. And pretending became real and I didn't call to tell her I was going to be late."

Nadir patted him on the shoulder. "Perhaps the timing wasn't meant to be. Allah has plans for us all. Sometimes when we think ahead it doesn't always work. And that's because we are rushing the inevitable. If you and Miss Daaé are meant to be, then it will work out. Don't forget. She will need someone after all this is over to comfort her and stand by her side. You will be that light in the darkness that will save her. And your past grievances you have committed… in time those will be forgiven. By her and by yourself. Like they say, love will always find a way."

Raoul cupped the ring in his palm and found wisdom in the older man's words. It was probably the most sense he made and Raoul was beginning to find hope in that.

"You could very well be right. I know she's the one for me, but I can't stop questioning if I'm the one for her. I just hope it's not too late."

Raoul placed the ring back in his pocket. Christine was making her way out of the building and coming down the steps towards them. She gave them a smile and he found himself reciprocating.

Yet, he still couldn't shake that Christine had some other ulterior motive for telling them Erik's location.

And he feared to know what exactly it was.

xxXXxx

_She was dreaming that much she knew. _

_Christine found herself standing on top of a roof and not just any roof. As she gazed out, she saw the outline of the Eiffel Tower and knew she was in Paris. How in the world she got there she had no idea, but this was a dream. And sometimes dreams can be quite strange._

_She walked along the rooftop and stopped to stare at the statue that was in the center. It was a tall, massive figure with wings expanded towards the heavens and in her mind the name of the statue echoed her thoughts._

Apollo's Lyre.

_She didn't know the significance of that name or what the statue represented. And it didn't seem all that important anyways. It was something to ponder while she waited._

_For what though?_

_Then she received her answer when she could hear the faint sound of music playing in her ears. _

_And she knew she wasn't alone._

_There wasn't any fear. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she next opened her eyes she wasn't outside any longer. Instead, she was on the inside of somewhere and one look around she knew it had to be somewhere underground._

_The cavern walls were dank and dark, but she saw the hint of candles bouncing off the walls further down. And the music that was in her mind was calling out to her. _

_This time… it wasn't so faint._

_Christine moved towards the flickering lights and the growing swell of the unknown music. As she became closer, the music took on words that only she could hear and she opened her mouth to sing._

In sleep he came to me

In dreams he came

That voice which calls to me

And speaks my name…

_She entered what was the main cavern and saw there was a little house on a lake. The music tugged her closer and she was immediately standing beside the door and pushed it open so she could go in. _

_Upon entering, the music ceased, but a voice sung out and she smiled._

Sing once again with me!

Our strange duet

My power over you grows stronger yet…

_She recognized that voice anywhere._

"_Erik!" she called and in the shadows he emerged. He stood proud all in black, his white mask catching the glow from the embers of the candles. He was exactly what she remembered and there didn't seem to be any traces of wounds or pain on his face. _

_He looked good as new._

"_Oh Erik!" Christine ran into his open arms and hugged him tight. "I thought I would never see you again! I thought… Oh God!"_

"_Christine," he purred, tilting her chin up with his finger so he looked could down at her face. "Nothing will keep us apart. I told you. We are bonded and nothing will tear us apart."_

_Tears swam in her eyes and she choked back a sob of relief. "I still was worried. When I felt you… in my mind… I knew you were going to be all right but why Erik? Why are you letting me into your mind? Why are you telling me how to find you?"_

"_Mon ange," he said, cupping her cheeks. "Surely you must know why. I need you to come back to me. We have little time and my strength is not back to what it was. I had to heal my body and though I'm well I still have a bit of poison left in me. In time we will be together again that I promise you."_

"_Erik," Christine said, gripping the lapels of his jacket. "Don't go."_

"_I must my dear. But do not fear. I am here." He pointed to her mind and then to her heart. "It never ceases to amaze me that I could possess the one thing I wanted most. Oh Christine. My Christine."_

_She could feel him slipping through her fingers and Christine lurched forward to grab him, but she met air. She watched as Erik began to fade and though it pained her to see him leave, she knew it wasn't the last time they will see each other._

"_I love you Erik. I will come back. And we will never be apart."_

Christine gasped as she woke up and looked around, hoping she didn't wake her companions. The men were fast asleep—Nadir in one of the desk chairs, Raoul on the floor—and she relaxed knowing her dream didn't alert them at all.

Falling back on the pillow, Christine rolled to her side away from them. The dream had seemed too real, despite the dreamlike elements. It felt like they were in a completely different world.

Or… another lifetime.

But she knew she spoke to and touched Erik. Her Erik. He was waiting for her to come to him. And she was waiting to return to him.

A part of her felt a little guilty for leading the men on, making them believe that she was going to help them stop Erik.

However… it was a very teensy tiny part of her that felt guilty.

After all, she had been kidnapped, gagged and handcuffed, poisoned, not to mention the countless times she was lied to and used for their reasons. At first, simply announcing she was back on their side; Christine thought it would be seen through as a lie immediately. But the Persian was too thrilled to have her back into thinking that Erik needed to be stopped. He must have been so desperate to convince Christine of Erik's sins that when she said what he wanted to hear… he pounced on it like a cat baiting a mouse.

Except, now she was the cat.

She proved to them that she was earnest in her motive to stop Erik by using their bond to locate him. Christine was worried it wouldn't work, but when it did… she felt the connection grow and strengthen. All this time apart had strained the bond, but when Christine slipped into Erik's mind, she felt like a part of her had also returned and she felt whole once more.

It was a different sort of intimacy to experience… to be in another person's mind, the one you love, was amazing and beautiful. If anything, getting in touch with Erik's thoughts and memories only fueled her love for him more. She knew what it was like for him when he had been a human—all that pain, suffering, and loneliness… she wanted to weep for him. But… if she did, then she would betray her plan and Nadir and Raoul would know she wasn't being truthful with her convictions.

The other thing that would have also gave her away was if she told them about how Erik was about to feed on a woman. For some reason, it didn't fill her with disgust or horror. And if she had said it… there would be acceptance in her voice.

Furthermore, Christine was able to experience firsthand the emotions that went behind the urge to feed. She _enjoyed _the toying, the excitement, and the arousal of the chase. Feeling Erik approach the woman… wrapping his hand around her throat… there was this incredible feeling of power and control that went through her. And if it were possible, she believed her stomach was growling in anticipation.

Of course, it could be that Erik was hungry and she was reflecting that, but somehow… she doubted vampires' stomachs would growl like a human's does.

Yet, as much as she wanted to go through that intimate moment with Erik, she knew that when she broke from the hypnosis, it would be evident that she wasn't 100% Team Vampire Hunter. But while she knew her ploy was working with Nadir, Raoul, on the other hand, did not.

She couldn't blame him. It was the policeman in him to doubt and after everything… for her to suddenly change her mind again? Well, the first time had been sincere since Christine didn't know if her feelings for Erik were real or not. But now, she had to make him look at it as if it was part of the grieving process. The last step: acceptance.

Despite everything, Christine had to accept there was going to be a final conclusion to this situation. And that wasn't a lie. She did accept there will be an end for someone, but she didn't want it to be Erik's.

And when they get to Maine, Christine will take her place right next to Erik and if Nadir or Raoul try to do anything to stop her or him…

_Well_, she thought, _I will fight to my dying breath to make sure that Erik will not be hurt by them. Even if I have to kill one of them. I won't let anyone keep me from Erik ever again. _

"Soon," she whispered to the shadows. "Soon we will be together."

xxXXxx

There was a slight pull, an order to follow.

_Report. Report._

This command echoed and yet she resisted. She couldn't report right now, she couldn't.

She needed to act quickly and prove she was worthy. That little bitch was nothing.

_She _was everything. And _she _was worthy of _him_.

She only had to prove it.

TBC…

So there you have it… Christine isn't really going to betray Erik. She loves him and she is going to get her man back no matter what it takes. Would I really separate them for good? Well, I guess the jury is out for that one, but like I said, have faith. Plus, a little E/C action to throw in right there. And please don't forget to check out _Love Never Dies_ when I post it tomorrow. It is a real treat!


	35. Chapter 35

A/N: I know this chapter is a little short, but I have been subbing and working at my other job in the evening this whole week and I did not have much time to add more to it. But I think its fine the way it is. And thank you for those of you who checked out Love Never Dies! I'm glad you liked it! Don't forget to review!

Disclaimer: The song in the beginning is called "Home Again" from the musical _The Scarlet Pimpernel _by Frank Wildhorn. It's a very lovely song and Linda Eder is amazing.

**Chapter 35**

_The night is cool  
>The wind is high<br>A wave of light  
>Breaks through the sky<br>I watch the light  
>And wonder when<br>This wind will sweep  
>Me home again <em>

_I would be warm  
>If I were there<br>In golden fields  
>And easy air<br>I close my eyes  
>And now and then<br>My weary heart  
>Moves home again <em>

_Let my heart fly!  
>Help me break free!<br>Sweet night, fill me with light!  
>Bring me home again! <em>

_I will hold on  
>I will get through<br>I will not die  
>Away from you<br>I don't know how  
>I don't know when<br>But I will see  
>My home again <em>

_Hold on til then -  
>Oh, wait for me!<br>I will be free_

Never had those words rang so true in her heart. It was torture not to be close to him, but each passing second was bringing her closer to him and she had to hold on to that fact. It was becoming difficult to hide her real feelings, knowing how close they were, and trying not to show her joy. Yet, she had to maintain her façade and make the men continue to believe she was going to help them bring Erik down.

Then… then she will make her escape and be free.

_And home again…_

She held out the last note very softly and almost didn't notice she had an audience.

"Ahem."

Christine glanced up to see Raoul holding a bag of Taco Bell in his hands and a soft drink in the other.

"I brought food. Peace offering." He gave her a boyish grin, his old self showing through. It was contagious and she grinned right back and accepted it.

"Thanks." Christine walked around to set the food on the trunk of the car so she could eat it.

"You're welcome." He watched her and suggested, "Do you want to go over to those umbrella tables?" This particular rest stop had a food court and tables to sit outside.

Christine shook her head. "I'm good right here." Then bit her into taco.

Neither spoke for a couple of minutes, except when Christine offered to share some of her nachos with him. Raoul turned the offer down, after scarfing down his burrito and two tacos on his way over to her, he wasn't hungry. Yet, there was the unspoken tension between them and it all had to do with her switching sides again.

Their relationship and friendship was already stretched out so far as it was and it wouldn't take much for that single strand to break. But despite everything, both secretly wanted to keep that strand in place. It was the only thing that kept them sane.

When Christine finished eating, she stuffed her wrappers in the empty bag and sipped on her drink. Very softly, Raoul said:

"That song you were singing… it was beautiful."

"A musical I heard some time back," she replied offhandedly. "I never understood the meaning of the lyrics until now."

"Yeah. But I wasn't referring to the song so much as it was your voice. You always sing like an angel. Like you're not exactly from here, but somewhere else. Somewhere unearthly."

"What?" It wasn't she expected him to say.

"I know I don't compliment you enough. I mean, compliment on your singing. But it's true. Your voice is unnatural and it was one of the first things that drew me to you. If it wasn't for you, then I don't know where I would be. You saved my life."

"I did?" Christine asked, her brow rose in surprise. "I didn't know that."

"Yeah," he answered a little sheepishly and nervous. "I know I never told you this, but before I met you… I was in a bad place. A little girl had been murdered because of her father and I knew it was him, but I didn't have the evidence to arrest him and by the time we did… it was too late. She was dead and I couldn't save her. I wanted to quit the force after that. How could someone do something so evil such as selling their own child? I lost faith in men and it wasn't until I saw you that I knew I couldn't quit. That I shouldn't because there were other people out there who need me and quitting wasn't going to help them. Not now, not then."

"Raoul…" Christine said, partly in warning and partly in fear. She didn't like where this was leading to. "Don't do this."

"You have to know Christine," he fought. "I love you. I will always love you. I was a jackass before and more so than anything else, and I hate myself for the last few days, but I don't regret it since you are here with me. You may think this is over, but not for me. Not even close."

Finding the courage he never had before until now, Raoul took out the ring from his pocket and held it out for to see. Her breath hitched at the diamond… after all, who wouldn't at the sight? She shakily looked back at him and saw his determination.

"I was going to propose that night," he explained. That night could only mean their anniversary night. "God knows how I wished things didn't turn out the way they did, but I needed you to know so you know my intentions. I'm not proposing right now. I don't want an answer. At least… not for a while. And I swear, I will do a better job than right now, but you had to know how I feel about our relationship. I still have hope we can work it out because this is it for me. You are my forever. So please… think about it."

Raoul put the ring back, but he wasn't expecting to find rage in her blue eyes.

"How dare you?" Christine growled. "Did you think that this would change anything? Raoul, you broke my heart. Unintentional or not. You broke my heart and it's going to take a lot more than an 'explanation' to even consider getting married to you now."

"I know!" he snapped back. "Look, Christine, I know this is my fault. And I want to correct it. But listen! Our relationship wasn't a waste to me and you mean the world to me. I want to be with you! I don't care about anything else! It's only you."

"Yes, well, maybe it's not the same for me anymore," she mumbled.

Raoul heard her anyways and clenched and unclenched his fists. "Of course, how could I forget?" he said. "Erik. You love him, even though he's a murderer and not to mention a monster."

"There is more to Erik than that. I'm not going to argue you on the murderer part… but I am helping you. And when this is over, I'm living my life and you are not in it Raoul."

Raoul swore and took a couple steps away from her and the car, then whipped around on his feet. "Helping? Cut the crap Christine. I know you are only 'helping' so you can go back to him."

"No—"

"Don't deny it Christine. I'm not an idiot. At first, I was really pissed and that you truly didn't care at all what happens. But then I realized something. Even if we do stop him, you will love him no matter what and to Hell with my feelings and wishes. You forget that there is someone else who cares about you! Someone who is very much alive and standing in front of you! If this was another _human_, then I would be upset, but I would have gotten over it. Why? Because you wouldn't be at risk! I don't want to go living and then one day get the call that your body was found. I won't stop blaming myself if that was the case. Because I would know I could have stopped it.

"But you don't see it that way. You think he could change. Face it Christine. This is not a vampire story with a happy ending. Sometimes they are bloodthirsty eating machines, nothing else. Think about that."

Raoul stormed past her and got into the car. It was her cue to get in too and she saw Nadir in the distance approaching them. So she got into the backseat.

xxXXxx

"If my calculations are right, we should be there in a day or two," Nadir told them. Christine blinked in shock and then realized something.

"Meg's wedding is in two days!"

The men looked at her and neither one did not know how to react.

"Well…" Nadir started. "That's unfortunate. But we don't have time to go back to the city for a wedding. Besides, your friend is under the creature's influence and she will stay at his side."

"Oh God!" she groaned. If Meg doesn't know what is happening, then she will be upset and devastated if she knew the truth that her wedding was missed because of a vampire controlling her. And what of Artie? Was he under Erik's influence too? If not, the poor man would be heartbroken if he thought his bride was skipping the altar when it was not her choice!

"It will work out. Eventually it will," Raoul said. Then he was back to his silent treatment.

After an hour, Christine had to go to the bathroom. The pop hit her so suddenly and to Nadir's annoyance, he pulled off at the next rest stop. She broke out running to get inside.

Raoul's stomach grumbled and thought a snack wouldn't hurt. Nadir thought it was a good idea so both men walked to the second building where there were snack, pop, and coffee machines. They each got a small feast of junk food and a couple of water bottles before heading back to the car.

Christine would have been back, but when they got closer she was nowhere to be seen. Trying not to panic, they looked around to see where she was when Raoul spotted a sign that read, "Scenic Trail- this way" and an arrow that pointed up to the trail.

"Fuck," he muttered, dropping his food and drink and sprinted off in that direction. Nadir saw him go and rolled his eyes. "Allah, I'm getting too old for this."

He set his stuff on the back of the car and followed behind.

xxXXxx

Christine was all too grateful that the burning sensation was gone. She washed her hands and walked out of the restroom. She saw the men were at the food machines and then the sign for the scenic trail. As much as she would have liked to stretch her legs, she knew they would get too upset and suspicious if she disappeared. So she turned towards the car when a knife was suddenly pressed against her throat.

"Don't make a sound," the person behind her whispered. "We're going for a little walk."

So Christine found herself taking that scenic trail after all, but she wasn't enjoying the sights or the fresh air as her attacker was pushing her up the slight incline and out of sight of the rest stop. She hoped the men saw her or noticed she was missing.

The person refused her to look behind so Christine couldn't see their face, but the voice had been female. Eventually, they stopped at the top of the hill where it over looked the expressway down below. Christine gulped at the sight and was finally whirled around so she could take a look at her kidnapper.

Her jaw dropped when it was Carlotta.

"CHRISTINE!"

The singer's heart jumped when she heard Raoul's voice and was sending a praise of thanks that they came in the nick of time. She didn't want to know why Carlotta was here or why she had a knife. Obviously, she meant to do harm.

The thundering footsteps indicated that Raoul and Nadir were close so Carlotta quickly jerked Christine's arm around her so she could press the knife to her throat again. This time she was pressing on her jugular when they came into sight.

The shocked look on their faces said it all.

"Take another step and I'll kill her," Carlotta warned, her Italian accent coming out thick.

Raoul had his hands up so she could see them. Panting, he said, "See? No weapons. Now, let's take it easy and talk this out. Okay Carlotta?"

"Don't move!" The woman growled. "I swear to God I will kill her!"

Raoul and Nadir froze like she said. "We're not moving," Raoul told her. The police officer in him taking over with a cool calmness. "Now, let's talk, all right? You don't want to kill Christine. You're not that person."

"No? I beg to differ. You see… he can't see me because of her. So, she has to go."

"Who can't see you?" Raoul asked, although he had a feeling of "who" it was. It seemed Buquet and Meg was not the only victims of Erik's compulsion.

"My Master…" Carlotta replied dreamily.

Nadir let out a curse under his breath while Christine's eyes widened.

"Erik," the singer whispered and winced when the blade pressed closer.

"Don't say his name!" Carlotta demanded. "You are not worthy of him!"

Christine let out a tiny whimper, which made everyone else nervous. Raoul licked his lips and continued on, especially since he found the weak spot. "Carlotta, listen. It's all right. Christine is not with him anymore. She left him. Your Master is free."

The Italian woman glared. "No she didn't. You took her and kept her from him. But she is a betrayer! She could have left! She had plenty of chances to go back to him, but she didn't. She threw his love for her back at him! I have been watching, following. She claims to love him, but she doesn't really and he doesn't believe that."

Nadir took a tiny step forward, his hand reaching behind his back for a small gun he kept. "You're right. She could have fought back and left us to go back to him. She isn't worthy after all. But you are."

Carlotta nodded vigorously. "Yes I am! I am worthy! But he doesn't want me… unless I prove it. I need to prove my loyalty is to only him. And that means, this little bitch has to go."

"Killing me won't win him over," Christine choked out. "Erik will never—"

"Shut up!" Carlotta snapped. The tip pushed further and a small line of red appeared. "I'm sick and tired of you beating me all the time! This is my turn to shine! I will win! I will—"

Carlotta's voice cut off suddenly as the knife dropped to the ground and her hands flew to scratch her throat. No longer holding her, Christine ran away from her and into Raoul's arms. She turned to watch as the other woman began to argue with herself.

"No! Stop this! You have to understand why… I love you… I had to! I did this all for you!"

Carlotta was walking backwards towards the ledge when her hand gripped her throat, squeezing tightly.

"No!" she gasped, her voice becoming faint. "Don't! Please…"

All three watched in horror as Carlotta flew back as if she was pushed.

She was gone.

TBC…

I'm thinking of doing a sequel of sorts, but it will be more of a collection of vignettes surrounding before, during, and after The Blood's Desire. Thoughts?


	36. Chapter 36

A/N: Hi everyone! Thank you again for the lovely reviews! I'm glad I have some interest in a sequel. Like I said, it would be a collection of one-shots and drabbles and such that will expand upon this story. Looking back, I see there are parts in here that I can go into detail about certain characters and what happens after to them.

Sorry for the shortness, but it's mainly a filler chapter and I did not have the time to expand on this one like I was hoping to do. I did add a couple more pages, but I think I will definitely make it longer when I do the sequel in Erik's point of view.

Don't forget to review now!

**Chapter 36**

There was nothing that could have been done. It was over as quickly as it started.

Christine couldn't stop shaking. She never witnessed anything like that before and Carlotta… She was dead. Dead.

"Take her to the car," Raoul ordered softly, his eyes not looking away from where the woman fell. "I'll handle this."

Nadir nodded. "Come Miss Daaé. It's over now." He took her by the arm and carefully led her down the path to the car. Meanwhile, Raoul took the tentative steps towards the edge of the hill to look down below. He saw the body lying off the road, but the tall grass kept her hidden from the cars driving past. There was no way they could leave Carlotta like that and being grateful for the disposable cell phone, Raoul dialed 9-1-1.

"Hello? I like to report an anonymous tip. There's a woman body in the tall grass off of I-84. Yes. I saw her jump off the cliff… it looks to be a suicide." He hung up before the operator could ask any more questions. Raoul turned around and went back.

Christine was sitting in the back seat with the car door opened. She still looked pretty shaken and she was now sporting a band aid where Carlotta cut her.

"Is…?" Raoul asked.

"Just a nick. She'll be fine," Nadir supplied. "She's stunned, but she will snap out of it soon. We need to go and check the body quickly. Get in."

"Why?" the young man asked but doing as the Persian said.

"To make sure she is dead-dead. Let's go." He closed the door for Christine and the tires screeched as he accelerated to get out of the rest stop and to where the body fell. It was still there and after a quick check-up, Nadir was satisfied that Carlotta wasn't going to make any appearances of the undead.

They drove off again before the emergency vehicles could find them. Of course, Raoul was upset when Nadir's idea of a quick check-up was to drive a stake through her heart.

"Now it won't look like a suicide!"

"It's irrelevant. The cell can't be traced to you and the tip was anonymous. Besides, better safe than sorry."

Later, it would be heard that a woman's body disappeared after a tip had been called in. There was blood found at the scene and DNA revealed that it was Carlotta, but police were baffled as to where the body could have gone. Now for those who were involved, they didn't think she joined the ranks with the vampires. It was still daylight out and she would have burst into flames if she did wake in an undead state. Raoul didn't doubt Nadir's words that she was dead-dead. If anything, they would suspect either Meg, Buquet, or perhaps some other lost soul of Erik's control found it and took it away before the medics could. After all, if Carlotta had been following them… then it stood to reason that another could be following too.

Raoul and Nadir were on high alert for any suspicious vehicle trailing them. It was terrible enough that they were caught off un-guard by Carlotta and to have another repeat… they couldn't afford to be lax not with their mission ahead of them.

Of course, now… it would seem apparent that the creature knew what their plans were. Why else would one of his servants follow them?

Yet, the attack on Christine did not make any sense. The demon would not want to inflict pain or death upon the woman it saw as a mate.

No…

Carlotta had acted on her own. In a twisted turn of events of master and slave relations, Carlotta saw it as love and she wanted the vampire all to herself. Christine was an obstacle and she had to get rid of her in order to have the demon to herself.

But… her perverted sense of loyalty and love for the monster led to her own self-destruction.

Another hapless, innocent victim used again for the vampire's purpose. And when Carlotta overstepped her bounds and her orders… well, there was no other choice but to make sure she would not harm the rightful mate. Of course, the other option was to release its hold over the young woman, but that would not befit the demon's lust for vengeance and penance for trying to murder its object of desire.

It was the obvious conclusion that both men reached, but did not speak aloud out of respect for Christine. The whole experience startled her and disturbed her greatly. She never witnessed another human being dying in front of her own eyes.

Yes… she did come close once to that woman back in Danforth when Christine was in Erik's mind, but it was still very shocking.

Mainly… because she knew Carlotta.

She had known her for years—they had worked together! Despite their rivalry and differences and not to mention the petty tricks Carlotta had pulled on her to prevent her from singing on stage…

She was dead.

Time to time Christine had wished the other woman would disappear forever, but for her to leave this plane of existence all entirely? It was not what Christine had hoped for would happen, but…

Her mind flashed back to that moment when her life was being held literally in the Italian's hands. Fear, hot and pulsating, coursed through her and her body shook at the thought of being killed right there on the spot… never to see Erik again. The idea of never seeing him again…

Then she remembered Carlotta's grip on her loosened and seizing the opportunity—she ran into Raoul's arms. She had to pretend it was her heart's desire that was holding her so tightly and fiercely, shielding her from the horror that almost touched her. In that split second, she sensed Erik's comforting presence and when Christine looked back… what she saw next… she wondered if her mind was playing a trick on her, but even now as she recalled those moments… she knew it was really he that was right there on the hill.

To any other person, it would appear that Carlotta had gone off her rocker, yelling and pleading and attacking herself as if there was another present in her head. In actuality, there was another present and it was Erik.

If Christine could communicate with him with her mind, then it stood to reason that a touched one could do the same. He was the Master… and Carlotta was the lowly servant to do his bidding.

However, for Carlotta to follow them, _to follow her_, it didn't seem like an order that Erik would have made. Making her quit Box Five made sense, but not this. Carlotta had to have acted on her own and when Erik realized Christine was in trouble, he did the only thing he could do despite the distance.

He _protected _her.

He pushed Carlotta off the hill to save her life. And yet… Christine felt no horror or remorse for this realization. Erik had to do what he could to make sure she was all right. It was unfortunate that Carlotta developed this fierce attachment and loyalty to him, even though he despised that woman for what she had done to Christine.

She knew that… because she saw it in his memories. He wanted Christine to have her spot at the club, to sing and to be recognized for her talent. Carlotta was not worth it to have all the fame and glory, and not her. After he compelled Carlotta to quit Box Five, he told her to leave and never bother her again.

But the memory had been brief… Christine didn't know if he made any other demands or orders to the Italian… yet, she believed that Carlotta would be the last person he would send to follow them.

No…

Carlotta acted by herself in this order, believing she could have Erik's love. It was only natural that death would be her punishment for daring to touch or harm his beloved.

And in Christine's heart there was only acceptance and she loved him all the more.

Of course, she knew Nadir or Raoul wouldn't see it that way. To them they only saw murder and more blood spilt because of Erik. They would stop at nothing to stop Erik from hurting more people.

Even if they happened to deserve whatever fate that befalls them.

Christine had to make sure that didn't happen. They were bringing her back to him, and once they arrived, she would leave them. How she hadn't figured that part out. But if she had to knock them out cold then so be it. Then she would be able to run to Erik and they could flee together.

In her mind, there would not have to be any more blood or death on either side. She could part ways with Raoul and Nadir, and hoped to God that they will never cross paths again.

It was wishful thinking, but nevertheless, Christine didn't wish death upon Raoul and Nadir. She had a history with Raoul and she wouldn't be able to live with herself knowing she got him hurt. Yes, he had brought her pain and at times she hated him, but not to the point where she wanted him dead. And Nadir… the poor man suffered too much and she may not be his number one fan; she had respect for what he does. He was wrong about Erik, but he did help others and that counted for something.

Gazing out the car window, Christine reached out to Erik with this message:

_Thank you Erik for saving me. I know this was a shock for you as well, at least, I hoped it was. I know you used Carlotta to make her quit so I could have a shot, and that you did not have her keep tabs on me. At least we don't have to worry about her anymore. But hang on. I'm coming. Can you feel me getting closer? Give me the strength my love and I will be soon beside you. I love you Erik. Both you and the demon._

xxXXxx

Christine fell asleep but woke when Raoul nudged her. They were at another motel, but didn't say where. It didn't matter to her. She knew they were already here in Maine.

Once they went inside their room, she received the shock of her life when Raoul took out a pair of handcuffs and cuffed her to him.

Her eyes narrowed at him dangerously. "What the Hell Raoul?"

"I'm sorry Christine, but it's still a risk I'm not ready to take," he answered her plainly. "You can keep insisting you're doing this to help us and that's it, but I know deep down that isn't true. The first chance you get, you will go back to him. I cannot allow that. I'm sorry it has to be this way."

Christine spat at him. "You know what Raoul? As much as you hated them, you are really like your parents. Selfish and heartless."

He gave her no reply.

TBC…


	37. Chapter 37

A/N: Hi everyone! I know the last chapter was short, but when you are working two jobs and most days you do both on the same days… it does get exhausting. But as I said, I do plan on extending the last chapter but I will do it as a "deleted scene," if you will, in the sequel. Here's a little bit longer chapter and we are very close to the end. Only two more chapters plus an epilogue. So you guys know the drill—don't forget to review!

**Chapter 37**

It was a long night for Raoul.

He couldn't sleep even although the Persian had advised him that he needed all the rest he could have to prepare for the final fight. He knew that he destroyed any possibilities of a chance for reconciliation between him and Christine. After everything he had told her and his hopes for them… he went ahead and did this.

Perhaps it was an irrational impulse that he feared he would lose her forever now that they were in Maine. He could say he wasn't thinking clearly, but even that sounded lousy in his head. He meant to cuff her to him and no explanation was needed.

Did that make him selfish and heartless?

Selfish… yes, but not heartless. How could it be when he was thinking with nothing but his heart?

Yet, the jab had been clear. Raoul always wanted to be different than his parents in every way and for her to say he was exactly like them… it struck a nerve.

He was being selfish, but he had to keep reminding himself what the consequences would be if he hadn't. Christine would put herself in danger and then he would never see her again. He couldn't go on with his life if she wasn't nearby. If only she would see reason and not her clouded judgment. There will never be a future with Erik and she had to get that through her head.

Yet, despite all of his honorable intentions, Raoul was torn. If only things were black and white. It would make this situation easier to understand and there wouldn't be this constant battle.

He sighed to himself and fell deeper into the pillow and told himself that this wasn't going to help him either. He had to sleep, even if for an hour. That was better than letting his mind run out of control.

He closed his eyes and sleep eventually came, but he still found himself waking every so often.

xxXXxx

As dawn approached, Raoul had enough sleep he could attempt and was craving a coffee. He had seen a coffee shop not far from the motel and the caffeine was calling to him.

Christine was sleeping and he didn't want to disturb her… so Raoul reached into his pocket and pulled out the key and undid the lock so he could free his wrist. He was about to attach the other link to the headboard, but Nadir's voice interrupted him from doing so.

"Let it be. I'll watch over her," the Persian told him gently. At Raoul's concerned look, Nadir added, "Look Mr. de Chagny. You can't keep locking her away because of what's out there. She is fine and she will not run."

It didn't bring much relief to Raoul, but he couldn't stay like this for long. He carefully got up from the bed and took the car keys from Nadir.

"You want anything?"

"A donut," Nadir replied. "And a black coffee."

"Okay." Raoul cast one more look on Christine and left.

As soon as the door closed, Nadir leaned into his seat cushion and announced, "You can stop the fake sleeping now Miss Daaé."

Christine scowled as she scooted up against the bed to throw a dirty look at the Persian. "How the Hell did you know?"

"It's my business to read the human body. You might have fooled de Chagny due to his inability to take advice, but not me. And don't give me that look. You are not handcuffed anymore."

She held up her arm with the one link still encased around her wrist. Nadir pursed his lips to suppress a grin. "All right. I'll grant you on that one, but it is not on your other hand nor is it attached to another being. You're as good as free."

"Half free," she told him bitterly. "You know what pisses me off the most? Just when I think we're making any progress he does something asinine. I can't take it anymore. He has to learn that we are done. There is no more 'us' and that's that."

"I understand," Nadir said. "Mr. de Chagny's way of handling the situation… well, in a professional aspect he does well in the face of trouble, but with the matters of the heart, he is lacking. He means well you must know."

"Yes but he is still an ass," she mumbled.

"You should see it from his point of view. He does love you and he is doing what he think is right."

"Yeah and so does abusive men to their wives and girlfriends. 'I love you honey, but I need to beat some sense in you because I care,'" she replied sarcastically.

"It's not the same," Nadir argued.

"Isn't it? Raoul doesn't like what he sees so he's doing his best to tie me down to him. And what are you now? Dr. Phil?"

"Miss Daaé, sooner or later, you and Mr. de Chagny will need to come to terms, but you need to stay focus on the task. As does he."

The Persian got her there. She needed to be focused, but not in the way he meant. Once she found her opportunity to bolt, she was taking it.

"How far are we anyways?" she asked.

"Not far. According to the map, we are about twenty miles south of Danforth." Nadir got up and walked over to the window in the room. Looking out, he murmured, "Pretty soon we will face the devil."

Then Christine startled him with an unexpected question.

"Nadir, how do you know that Erik was the one who killed your family?"

His back went rigid but he slowly turned around to look at her. "I just do."

She shook her head. "That's not a reason. You said it yourself you were already hunting another vampire when you got wind that Erik was also nearby. What if it was that vampire and not Erik?"

"Miss Daaé, do you have a point for this interrogation?"

"Yes," she told him. "You could be wrong and you have been chasing him for nothing. Instead of going after Erik, you could be going after the vampire that killed them. But you are so fixated that it had to be him that you didn't consider the other possibilities."

At this, he whirled on her in anger. "You doubt my skills as a hunter? You think I don't know how to do my job and investigate it properly?"

Knowing she hit a nerve, Christine kept continuing. "I'm saying that's it hard to be objective when it is your family. You said it yourself that Erik had been friends with your ancestor and neither one of them could kill the other. I can't see him killing anyone connected to his friend. Even your family."

She had him there.

It was rather strange that when the opportunity had presented itself, the vampire had not killed his hunter friend and with his ancestor's promise not to cause harm to it… Clearly, the demon would not look a gift horse in the mouth and do something to jeopardize it.

Then again… it was a demon and the whims of such could change as quickly as the wind. How many times did Nadir come across a creature that insisted it would bring no harm only for it to suddenly turn against its loved ones? Erik was no different or no better than the rest he had come up against. And the demon knew it was being hunted and it wanted to make a personal message.

_Come near me again and share the same fate as they._

So yes… it wasn't that hard to believe that this demon murdered his family. And in the slight chance she was right… and Erik did not kill them, well, it would only be one less vampire in the world that Nadir would have to worry about.

Vengeance would be an added bonus if Erik was indeed the killer.

Yet, he would not betray his thoughts and let Christine see that her words could hold some truth.

Maintaining a stoic expression, it proved hard for her to discern what his thoughts were. But she knew he was thinking what she said and in his grief it was easy to pinpoint who you wanted the villain to be. After a minute of his silence, Nadir turned so his back was to her again.

"I know you want him to be innocent of this crime. That it is impossible for him to do what you said because of my ancestor's friendship. Perhaps, if he had some humanity left in him… I would believe it. But the demon is what is left of him. That's all. The demon will never honor a human's relationship no matter how old it is. You forget that Miss Daaé. The demon has the final say—"

Christine watched as Nadir dropped to the ground, the Bible heavy in her hands. She set the book down on the table and quickly scrambled to find a key that would unlock the other handcuff. Not finding any, she searched Nadir for something that would prove useful for her escape. She took his gun and his cell so he couldn't call Raoul when he came to.

It wasn't much, but it would hopefully buy her enough time before Raoul returned with their breakfast.

She gave the Persian one last look and headed to the door. She looked over her shoulder and sighed.

"I'm sorry Nadir, but it had to be done."

She went out into the daylight and as she took the stairs down, the handcuffs waving with each step, she stopped when she saw the car parked in front of her. The door opened and Buquet came out.

Christine stared at the older man in astonishment when he went to the back door and opened it for her. All it took for him to say to her was:

"He is waiting for you."

And Christine stepped into the car.

xxXXxx

Balancing the holder with their drinks, the bag of donuts, and the motel key, Raoul carefully walked up the stairs to their room. When he got there, he saw that the door was opened, the wind moving it back and forth.

Instantly, he dropped everything and reached for his gun. Drawing it out, Raoul went inside and immediately saw Nadir starting to stand, the Persian groaning as his hand went to rub his head.

But there was no Christine.

"Fuck," Raoul said, lowering his gun as Nadir used his unsteady hands to help himself stand. He had a small knot on the back of his head and the Persian saw the Bible and grimaced.

"What the fuck happened?" Raoul barked.

Nadir blinked and slowly he started to grin and then to laugh. His laughter began softly and grew louder.

"Nadir! Where the fuck is Christine?" he shouted.

"Don't you see, my young friend?" Nadir said as if that explained it all. "It is all going according to plan. She has left to be reunited with the vampire. And she took my gun and phone! This is excellent! Absolutely wonderful!"

"Come again?" Raoul said and wondering if he should knock some sense back into the Persian so he could talk sanely. The idea was very tempting as Nadir clapped his hands and then started running around the room, gathering everything they brought in.

"Hurry! We must hurry! We don't want to lose her," Nadir told the young man.

Raoul put his gun back in its holster and grabbed the older man's shoulders. "God help me you better start making sense before I clock you. Now, what is going on? What plan?"

Nadir sobered and looked into his eyes somberly. "She never intended us to get closer to him. Why would she? She needed an opportunity to leave and I gave it to her. Of course, it wasn't what I thought would happen, but I had to seize the moment and make it easier for her. This will end tonight de Chagny. At last Allah is smiling upon us!"

xxXXxx

Christine hadn't thought how she would get to Erik after knocking Nadir out, but she was pleased that her lover had already planned it out for her by sending Buquet. Of course, she wouldn't be able to begin as to how she could find him!

She was very happy that she wasn't far from him after all. The drive took only about twenty minutes when they finally pulled into the town of Danforth. Buquet continued driving past through the town until they were miles away from the town and pulled into what looked like an abandoned marina. There was a building next to the dock, which looked like it had been either a factory or some kind of fishery. She saw a boat tied at the end of the dock and straight across she could see Canada.

Just like she had seen when she was inside Erik's mind.

It was eerie and silent, but Christine was filled with eager anticipation. Erik was here and she knew she was finally where she belonged.

Buquet had the car creep behind the building and parked in the shadows. Christine was jumping at the bits to get inside where he was waiting for her. Once the engine died, Christine was out and running into the building. She paused when she found Erik straight ahead.

Her heart raced as she took in the sight of her lover. It had been days since she last saw him, but Christine felt it was like the first time back in New York City. Standing proud and powerful, clad only in dark pants and a black shirt, the mask as ethereal as ever… was Erik.

She felt the air knocked out of her and immediately she was swept in his arms, his lips diving for her mouth. In that moment, there were only each other that existed in the world. She never noticed that Buquet did not come in after her. How could she when she could only concentrate on Erik? Yet, the only thing that ruined it for her was when she had to pull away to breathe. While she swallowed gulps of air, she knew she had to say this now before Erik distracted her.

"I love you Erik. I choose you. It has always been you even when I tried running away. I was foolish to doubt my heart and my love. I hope you can forgive me."

"Forgive you?" he echoed. "My dear Christine… My angel… It is I who should ask you for forgiveness."

"That's behind us now," she told him fervently. "I love you. I don't see the blood or death, just you. And I love what I see, even the demon."

This only had to be a dream. One that taunted Erik too many times to count and it proved to be real with her taste in his mouth, her scent filling his head. To have her accept his face… and now the demon… it was a wonderful gift to behold. This woman… this _incredible _woman loved Erik despite the sins and the monster. In her eyes, he was only Erik. Not a man or a vampire, but simply Erik.

And that was what he wanted in life and he finally had that slice of paradise in his grasp.

With a low moan, Erik captured her lips again and pulled her tighter to his chest. As the fire between them began to build, he mournfully separated himself from Christine. As she mewed in protest, Erik couldn't stop the smirk from spreading.

"We'll have time for that. But we should go… no doubt that damn infuriating hunter and _boy _will come for you."

"Go where?" she asked. "Erik. It's daylight out. We can't go anywhere unless you burn up!"

"My dear. I have been planning this since New York City. If you come with me."

Erik took her arm and led her to another door that led outside. Erik stayed behind in the shadows to show her a car that already had blackened windows.

"It'll protect me for the time being until we can safely move in the cover of darkness," Erik told her. "We must go. Soon they will come and they will have the advantage of day."

Christine looked back at him and nodded. "Let's go then."

"Go inside. It's unlocked. I have one last thing to attend to and we will be on our way."

Without thinking twice, Christine went to sit on the passenger side. Erik turned around and called out for Buquet. The older man appeared.

"You know what to do," Erik said and he nodded.

"Yes Master. I won't fail you."

"See that you don't," Erik growled and marched over to his coffin and pulled a cloak from inside. Wrapping it around his shoulders and head, he darted out to the car where his angel waited for him.

Little did Christine know that he wasn't planning on going too far from the hunters. Their interference had gone on for too long and he wasn't going to have them take Christine away from him. They will end this for good and it would be on his turf.

xxXXxx

Raoul's mind was still spinning when Nadir explained his well-crafted plan. He knew that Christine would try and leave them whenever she had the chance. It was the matter of timing. Yes, the Carlotta interlude was unexpected and something that no one saw coming, but it gave the singer the opportunity to wait patiently for it to come.

And the Persian provided the perfect setup.

With his back turned to her, he was vulnerable and she could sneak up on him. The conversation about his family's deaths and the possibility that Erik may or may not have killed them was something he did not bring up to Raoul. He told the young man that they did talked, which gave Christine the opening she needed.

But he couldn't focus on that for the time being. He told Raoul that he purposely had his gun and phone in his pockets so she would take them. This cell had a GPS device built in, which would allow them to track her whereabouts and the gun… he had a bullet in there, but only one.

"I always have extra guns," Nadir told Raoul and in the back of the trunk, there was a tiny arsenal under the flaps.

"How come you didn't say this before? Why have me go out and buy more?"

"Because my young friend," Nadir said pointedly. "She would know. And what she knows, the creature will know. We had to create the perfect allusion that everything was lost to us back in New York. I'm sorry I could not have told you beforehand, but I needed you to go along with everything."

"Yeah," Raoul grumbled, shaking his head. "Well… that settles it."

"Come. We need to go so we can get there before nightfall." Nadir closed the trunk and both men climbed into the car, the tires squealing as they left the motel's lot.

Raoul called the company that was linked to the missing phone so he could direct the Persian to its location and Christine.

"Do you think this will work?"

"It's in the hands of Allah," Nadir answered. "But fortune is on our side and so is technology. Let me know when you have it tracked."

Luckily, the phone was still in the same coordinates as the marina outside Danforth just like Christine had said. When they arrived, Raoul spotted what looked like a boat out in the water sailing towards the other side of the shore.

"Shit!" Raoul exclaimed. "We missed them!"

"No!" Nadir said. "It's not them. It can't be them."

"How do you know?" Raoul shouted.

"It's day!" the Persian replied. "There is no way the demon would attempt a trip. It's a ruse. Follow me!"

Nadir ran into the warehouse with Raoul at his heels… in the center of the building was a coffin. Nadir was the first to approach it and threw off the lid. He reached in and pulled out a letter.

He took one look and his fist trembled as he crumbled the paper.

"It knew," he told the young man. "It knew we will come and that Christine will lead us." He also pulled out the cell that Christine took from him. "See?"

"What now?" Raoul demanded. "How do we know how to track them?"

"This is not like the demon," Nadir muttered. "To run off… to deny itself a kill that would certainly be worth having. We took its mate and it would want to punish us. This is not the end. It will come on its own terms."

"Are you saying we have to wait?"

"I doubt it would be for long."

"Well, I'm not in the mood to wait," Raoul said.

"Neither am I," Nadir said and stormed out into the car. "But we can guess where they could be heading."

As they got back into the car and drove off, another pulled out of its hiding spot and followed.

xxXXxx

As they sped along Interstate 95 the day had turned dark and they were losing sunlight faster and faster. Nadir could only assume they were moving north and they couldn't have gone far not with the day.

While they drove, Raoul looked in the side mirror and spotted a car behind them that was picking up speed. Before neither of them could react, the vehicle was suddenly on top of them. The impact was immediate causing both the Persian and Raoul to lurch forward while their car began to spin on the road. The car rushed at them again, hitting the backend of the vehicle causing the car to lose control and roll into a ditch.

It rolled twice before landing upright with smoke billowing out from the engine. And then there was only stillness.

Buquet pulled off the shoulder and stepped out of his car. He gazed down at the other car and pulled out the gun that the Master took from the girl and handed to him.

He had one more thing to do before he could join them.

With the barrel aimed at his target, Buquet calmly walked down and flung opened the car door.

A gunshot rang out.

TBC…


	38. Chapter 38

A/N: Happy Halloween! It's a Happy early Halloween, but I wanted to throw that in. We have so much to do before this story ends. And I made some changes so there's going to be two more chapters plus an epilogue. Not one more. This is what happens when you do some rewriting and you realized you can move things to another chapter. So yay! Don't forget to review please!

**Chapter 38 **

Driving in a darkened car was an interesting experience. Christine was surprised they weren't pulled over, but Erik drove north for an hour and a half, staying near the coastline.

However, she was quite concerned.

As the sun was reaching its highest peak, she saw tiny red dots appear on Erik's hands and since he was keeping his face from her… she had a feeling it would be the same phenomena.

"Erik," she said with worry. "We should stop. You're…"

"It's all right," Erik hissed while his hands clenched the steering wheel tighter. "The sun is strong, but I'm protected."

"I don't care. You're bleeding," she cried in alarm as the little dots started to connect and form large drops. "Let me drive. You can tell me where to go."

"Almost… there…" Erik floored the gas causing Christine's spine to hit the back of the seat. Her nails sank into the fabric as they drove on an incline. She couldn't see where they were heading and the small section on the windshield that was uncovered so Erik could see wasn't helpful. But she drew in a breath of relief when the glass darkened and she knew they were in some kind of shade.

Once the car parked, Christine ripped off her seatbelt and grabbed Erik's hand to inspect the damage. She didn't care that she was wiping his blood on her clothes and hands, but she had to see… to look…

But there was nothing there.

No cuts… no burning marks…

She looked into his eyes (and like she suspected) there was blood on his visible side. Yet, he was grinning.

"I'm fine Christine. Trust me," he said reassuringly. "It doesn't hurt. I promise."

"But—"

"Think of it as a way to perspire," he said. "That's all it is."

She gulped. "That's all it is," she repeated, but she wasn't entirely convinced. He had bled enough already for her and she didn't want to see any more shed on her behalf.

Not from Erik. Not from—_No_, she told herself. _I will not think of them. They are behind us now. We are safe. _

"Come. We must go."

Erik stepped out of the car and she followed suit. Rushing over to his side, in case he needed help, Christine took his arm and they climbed up the steps to go inside a house. She hadn't the opportunity to take a good look at it since Erik was her number one priority and she had to get him to a place where it was completely dark and safe from the sun's reach.

Luckily, the house was abandoned, but what Christine didn't know… Erik had this prearranged. Upon arriving in Danforth, he sent Buquet to find a place that was better secluded and away from the town. The older man found this abandoned home that was on a hill and it was the perfect spot for Erik to take Christine to once he had her again. The house was surrounded by overgrown trees that provided the cover he needed from the sun.

The door was unlocked and Christine helped him inside, closing the door swiftly. All the windows were barricaded and covered, throwing the house into complete darkness. She could barely see the hand in front of her face, but Erik's vision adjusted immediately and he took Christine's hand to help guide her to the cellar.

"I know it's not glamorous or what you're used to, but it's the furthest distance from the sun and I need a few minutes to recover." Erik pulled on a drawstring and the lone light-bulb cast a soft glow around the basement.

A cot with a couple hastily thrown blankets on top stood in the center.

"I promise you I will find us a better place, but for now…"

"Erik," Christine gently interrupted, looking up into his eyes, a smile playing on her lips. "I honestly don't care if we had to sleep in the dirt. I'm with you. Whatever you need to heal yourself… we'll do it and once the sun starts to set… then we can keep moving."

His hand covered hers and he sighed. "You are a remarkable woman Christine," he said.

"I know," she teased. "Erik? Do you think there's a possible chance we could return to New York?"

"Why?" he asked, the demon growling in his mind that the idea was absurd.

"I haven't had the chance to say goodbye," Christine replied. "My parents… Van Helsing… not to mention Meg and Artie." She lowered her hand to her side. "My best friend is getting married and I'm not there. She's the sister I never had and I don't want to miss this joyous moment for her. But Erik… how could you do that to her? How could you compel her?"

"I had my reasons."

"I know but that's not enough to justify it," she said. "I heard that you can cut off the ties with a word… free Meg and Artie from this mind control. You don't need them anymore."

The look he gave her was pained. "You really think I would keep them… oh Christine. I never intended to harm them. I maybe a monster, but I know hurting them would only hurt you in the end. Even the demon agrees with me."

"But—"

"I'm not proud of what I did," he interjected. "I was desperate. I didn't want to lose you. When I lost control and bit you… the last thing I wanted was for you to walk away from me. I did go to your friends to make sure that you would never find out what I am. If you should remember… they would have told me so I could—" He paused, knowing that his next words would not be what she wanted to hear. "I found you. I fell in love with you. I couldn't lose you because of what I am. When you ran out and went to that… well, I had to bring you back. I may not have much of a soul, but I know what will drive you away from me. I would release them once I know what you really wanted."

"Even if I had decided that you were not what I wanted?" she asked. "You would stop chasing me?"

"Yes." Erik looked her in the eyes. "The demon would not be happy with me and it would fight me… but I would never hurt you. If you didn't want me, then I would leave you in peace."

"Well, then, it's a good thing I never did that, huh?" Christine smirked. "I would be severely disappointed if you didn't try to find me."

Erik chuckled. "Yes. It's a good thing."

"How does it work?" she questioned. "Freeing them?"

"Like this…" Erik closed his eyes, his lips moving wordlessly, and then he opened them. "It's done."

Christine's expression did falter. "That was it? I thought… well, something dramatic would happen. A clash of thunder… a glow…"

Erik laughed. "I'm afraid that not everything is like that. Your movies are all for the show. It wouldn't be interesting if it followed reality."

"Yeah. So… they're fine?"

"Yes," Erik nodded. "They won't remember a thing."

"And Joseph Buquet?"

"I will when it is time," he answered. "Right now, I do require his services for a little bit longer."

"Like what?" She went to sit down on the cot.

"I need someone in the light to scout ahead for potential places for me to hide. When I feel we are no longer in danger, I will free him if that is what you wish."

"But we're not," she said. "Raoul and Nadir have no idea where we are. They can't find us."

"I wouldn't underestimate them, in particular the Persian," Erik growled under his breath.

Christine pursed her lips. "Erik, I did this to prevent any blood from spilling even more. There doesn't have to be a confrontation. We're safe."

"Christine…" Erik sat beside her and cupped her cheek. "I'm a vampire, a creature that lives in people's nightmares. There will always be a confrontation. For now, let us rest. When it is night, we will leave again."

She bit her lip, but she was growing tired as well. "All right."

They lay next to each other, Erik's arms wrapped around her waist. It didn't take long for the two of them to fall into unconsciousness. Now that there was no worry or stress about finding each other… they were able to find bliss in the comforts of sleep.

xxXXxx

A gunshot rang out.

Buquet grabbed his leg, tumbling down into the dirt. Blood was pouring out from where he was shot, his gun at his feet. He tried to bend over to get it, but let out a cry of pain as he fell back.

He could only look up in astonishment when Nadir lowered his arm from the driver's seat.

"de Chagny?" Nadir called, not looking away from the fallen man. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Raoul replied, shaking his head to get his sight focused. "You?"

"I'll live," the Persian said coolly.

Thankfully, they only had some bruises and a couple of cuts, but nothing was seriously damaged. Raoul was the first to leave the car and he stumbled at first… his vision swimming but he stood his ground and strode to the other side to find Buquet whimpering on his back.

The officer snatched the gun away from his former colleague and had it trained on his head.

"Joseph Buquet, I take it," Raoul greeted. "Nice to meet you."

Buquet managed to get a hold of himself, long enough to try and spit at the young man. Yet, his body was still in shock and his saliva landed by Raoul's feet. The younger man didn't seem at all nonplussed and turned over his shoulder to see how the Persian was doing.

Nadir slowly got out, using the car to keep himself upright. He winced as his body protested, but he was grateful that nothing was broken. _Thank you Allah_, he sent a prayer of thanks.

Returning a look to Raoul, Nadir dropped his gaze to the quivering older man. The fool tried to get up, but it caused more blood to flow over his leg and he landed back down with a shout. The expression on Raoul's face was anything but sympathetic and he leaned over to seize Buquet's shirt so they could be face to face.

"Where is he!?" Raoul demanded. "Where the fuck are they at?!"

Buquet closed his eyes, his lower lip shaking, as he sobbed out to leave him alone. This made Raoul angrier and he hoisted him up a little just to send another wave of pain through Buquet's body. He placed the barrel against the older man's temple and repeated himself once more in a gentler tone, "Now, tell me where they are. Where are Christine and Erik?"

Buquet shook his head as he muttered, "No no no no no no…"

Raoul's patience was slipping and as he was getting ready to kick him in the injured leg, Nadir's hand fell on his shoulder.

"Let him go," Nadir told the upset man. "Remember… he's a victim too."

Raoul glared at Buquet and forcefully dropped him. "Victim my ass. He meant to kill us Nadir!"

"Yes as instructed by the vampire no doubt," Nadir explained sensibly. "Hurting him won't help us find them. Give me the gun. It is mine after all."

Raoul did not hand over the gun. "Listen to yourself Nadir. This is fucking nuts! This goes beyond mind control and this other shit. I don't have to take this anymore!"

"And killing him is going to solve everything?" Nadir argued. "Checking every nearby city and town is going to waste a lot of time, which will give them the opportunity to leave again and then what? We have nothing! Nothing!"

Raoul didn't reply, but rocked on his feet as he looked from the Persian to the blubbering man. Finally, he relented and handed the gun back to the Persian. Right now in his state of mind… he was a loose cannon.

Nadir stuck the gun in his coat pocket. "Good. Now, we need to get everything we can carry and him too so we could avoid any other cars passing this way."

Then Buquet began to start laughing. "Fucking idiots! You think I will betray my Master? Never! He has given me everything I could ask for and more! Go on! Shoot me! Leave me for dead! But my Master will come looking for you to take his vengeance!" He tossed his head back and continued to howl in laughter.

Nadir went over and stomped his foot over the gun wound, which turned Buquet's laughter into anguished cries and shouts. "You will help us," Nadir told him without a choice. "You will take us to the monster and the girl. And then we will return you to your old life."

The older man, in turned, glared at the foreigner. "My old life? That was Hell! I don't ever want to go back! My Master protects me. He will kill you hunter! You and that boy! He will rip you apart with his hands and squash you into nothing! You hear me! I do not fear you!"

Nadir aimed and pulled the trigger. The shot was inches from Buquet's ear.

"Wrong answer," he told the man. "Let's try it again, shall we?" He stepped on his leg one more time. "Now… where is your Master?"

Buquet lowered his shaky hands from his ears and let out another sharp yelp. "All right! Stop! Please stop!"

Nadir lifted his foot away. "That wasn't too difficult now was it? Mr. de Chagny?"

Together, they hoisted the injured man and dragged him back to Buquet's car. He was thrown in the backseat and Nadir stayed to tend to the wound while Raoul went back to gather as many weapons as he could. The first trip Raoul opened Buquet's trunk to dump what he had in his arms inside and jumped, completely startled with what he saw.

Bugs!

"Fucking Hell," Raoul grumbled as some of the glass jars had tipped over and he didn't want to guess what it was that was now crawling around. A few flies and moths flew past him. Swallowing hard, Raoul reached in and grabbed all the jars and threw them back in the ditch. He ignored Buquet's cries to leave his little friends alone and put the guns, holy water, and crosses inside.

Once he had his task done and Nadir was able to clean out the wound as best as he could and stopped the blood flow. The bullet was extracted and he finished wrapping some bandage around the older man's leg.

"It'll do," the Persian said as he stepped back from his handiwork. "As long as you don't move too much, the wound won't open itself."

Buquet wasn't listening to him. "My friends! Why did you do that? Do you know what you had done? How can I continue to be immortal?"

"Immortal?" Nadir repeated, looking up at Raoul with confusion. The younger man shrugged. "Don't know, don't care. Let's go."

Raoul got into the driver's side this time with Nadir in the passenger seat. Once the car roared to life, the police officer gazed at Buquet.

"Tell me where to go."

TBC…


	39. Chapter 39

A/N: Hi everyone! I hope I'm not losing any of you, especially since we are getting closer and closer to the end. Only one more chapter left and then an epilogue follows. I will be doing a sequel (a collection of one shots) based on this story, and that will come sometime later. Don't forget to review!

A/N: Unfortunately, my internet wasn't working yesterday and I had to postpone it to today. The woes of technology…

**Chapter 39**

The slight pull in his head caused Erik to jump back from the mattress, growling from being interrupted and for pulling himself out of Christine's warm and inviting body. He let out another snarl and the lovely singer beneath him, gasping and panting, rose to see what was wrong.

"Idiot!" Erik exclaimed, feeling that Buquet had failed in his order to get rid of those pesky hunters once and for all.

"What's wrong?" she asked, reaching for his shoulder.

He turned to her and tried to placate her by smiling softly. "Don't worry my love. It's nothing."

"Doesn't sound it," Christine said, gathering the sheets around her chest. "Erik… no more secrets. No more hiding. Remember?" She held out her hand for him. "Now, I'm going to take a wild guess here and say it's something to do with Buquet, isn't it? And… if I'm right, I bet it's about Raoul and Nadir."

Erik took her hand, his thumb gently rubbing the flesh. "Christine…"

"No." She shook her head and pulled her hand from his. "Be honest with me Erik. It is about them."

Defeated, Erik's eyes slipped closed as he barely nodded. "They want to take you away. They won't stop Christine. I have to do what I must to protect my mate. I won't let them take you from me."

She sighed and dropped her forehead to his shoulder. "Erik, when are you ever going to listen and believe me when I've said I'm not leaving? I don't care if they do come for me… they are not going to find us. And if they did… well, I'm staying put. It would have to be my dead body they have to drag out if they want me to leave," Christine told him, cracking a joke to soothe the situation.

"Oh Christine," Erik murmured, reaching out with his other hand to tug on the sheets to drop and pool around her waist. He took in the sight of her glorious, beautiful naked skin feeling strangely blessed that this was his. Yet, the demon was whispering dark thoughts about the two men who were on their way for her. That damn fool Buquet betrayed him. He knew it would happen eventually and there was only one way to punish the older man.

Of course, he couldn't think on how he was going to punish him, not when this insatiable siren was luring him to follow his darkest desires.

"Erik," she implored him, reaching to cup his face, her hand brushing against his deformed cheek. "I'm here. I'm real. Don't listen to the demon. Listen to me."

He swallowed hard. "You don't know how hard it is."

Erik was right. She had no clue what it was like to have another being battling control with her body. But she accepted him and the demon and wanted desperately… right then to prove he could do this. He could be the man she knew he could be if given the chance. The demon will have to sit back and watch.

Pressing her mouth to his, hard and forceful, Christine poured all her love and emotions into that kiss. She wanted Erik to taste the victory that he owned her; both body and soul, and that nothing could keep them apart.

Not even the hunters.

Christine pulled back and ran her fingers through his hair, the need to touch and feel growing stronger. "I'm here," she whispered. "I'm never going to leave you Erik. I'm yours. Do you hear me? I'm all yours. You don't have to prove anything. Even the demon doesn't have to prove what we already know."

Exhaling sharply, Erik pulled her tighter against his chest and started to lower her to the bed.

"I know," Erik said. "But there's one thing you need to learn Christine. The demon doesn't ignore any threats. And it doesn't let bygones be bygones. Those men have already tried to kill me and almost did. I can't let them get away with that." Gazing intently into her eyes, he added, "I need to protect you and I have to get rid of the threat."

There was little use in arguing. As much as Christine wanted there to be no more violence, she saw the demon right there behind his eyes.

Waiting to be let loose.

It was both horrific and awesome to behold.

She shuddered once and although this conversation wasn't over… Christine rather they'd continue some reuniting before it was time for them to move on. Despite the demon, Christine didn't want anyone else to die and she would do anything to prevent that from happening.

"Right now," she said. "I want my Erik. The demon can have its turn after."

Hearing her uttered those words, Erik instantly responded. Mewing with delight, Christine arched her back as Erik trailed kisses down her throat to her breast. Cupping her, he teased her nipple until it was pebbled and began to suckle as she swayed in his hold. Her nails bit into his chest, drawing blood, and Erik pulled back with a tortured hiss.

"_Christine_…" he hissed her name when she started to lick the blood off his skin and kissed him gently.

She drew back and licked her lips. "Delicious," Christine murmured and she looked up to see the demon staring at her with lust.

Seeing Erik's true face only inflamed her more and she tilted her head, offering her neck as he pushed her further into the bed. He poised over her, his fangs lengthening as he could hear her pulse drumming loudly. Not out of fear… oh no. She wasn't afraid of him.

It was desire.

His body thrust into hers at the same time his fangs fell into her throat.

xxXXxx

At first, Buquet thought he could be sneaky and clever just like his Master. He knew the Master would be upset if he thought Buquet would give away their hiding spot like that. The Master would be so proud if he saw that he was giving them wrong directions.

Unfortunately, Buquet had a terrible poker face.

It didn't take Raoul and Nadir long to figure out he was stringing them along. Raoul had a much better poker face as he followed the directions Buquet was giving them and then pulled into an empty lot where Nadir took out a silver cross and forcefully put it around the older man's neck.

The pain was excruciating, much worse than the gunshot, as the cross was searing itself into his flesh. Then the Persian pulled out a flask and doused him with holy water, which Buquet screamed in bloody murder. While he writhed in agony on the backseat, the two men calmly waited for Buquet to end his tomfoolery.

The resistance was over.

Nadir removed the cross (by first ripping it off of him) and tossed him a handkerchief to dry off the excess water. And they were back on the road. This time Buquet was giving them the correct directions.

"I thought he was just a victim," Raoul said.

Nadir's expression was stoic. "Desperate times calls for desperate measures. The old fool is deeply under the vampire's influence. We had to break him."

Raoul made an agreement sound. "Uh-huh."

"Of course, we would be obligated to protect him. He did betray his Master."

"No!" Buquet weakly cried out. "I had no choice! My Master will understand! He will pity me and make both of you suffer as I did!"

Nadir took out his gun to check his ammunition. "For a man who has spent a lot of time with the demon, you don't know anything. The demon doesn't forgive and forget easily. It will see that you weakened under pressure and will have no longer use of your services."

"That's not true!" Buquet exclaimed.

"Well, it has what it wants with Miss Daaé. What need does it have for you when it has her?" Nadir posed the question.

Buquet went silent. He knew he had been faithful all this time, but surely the Master would not kill him. Right?

"I have seen many a man and woman in your position," the Persian continued. "It never ends well. So I'm going to offer you a choice. Help us destroy the creature and you will have your salvation and soul restored to you. Or else you will endure much more pain than what I had done to you."

There was plenty for Buquet to consider and something was telling him to listen to what the foreigner was saying. That and he had to save himself to live. Yet, another voice was telling him to obey and not to believe in this hunter. The mental struggle was showing on his face and the poor lost soul did not know which voice he should listen to.

xxXXxx

Satiated for the time being, Erik left Christine sleeping.

He walked up the stairs from the basement and stood in front of the large window that overlooked the ocean. The sun was already setting, the sky bleeding with reds and purples.

Christine may not want there to be any more bloodshed, but the demon had to be placated. This was not sitting well with it and even though the demon was warming to the idea of a possible mate… this was the one request that the demon could not fulfill.

Someone was going to die tonight.

As Erik stood in the shadows, the familiar tingling of hunger began to overwhelm him. It was more than blood what the demon thirsted for. It was angry, so very angry, and the demon, of course, does not forgive so easily.

xxXXxx

The sky was getting duskier and every second passing was a precious second gone until the vampire was ready to step outside.

They arrived at the house on the hill, Buquet still a wreck, continued to tremble violently. The car stopped and Nadir turned to look at him once more.

"Have you made your choice?" he asked.

The older man fearfully gazed up at the Persian and nodded. "Please don't let him kill me. I don't want to die!"

Despite his earlier temper, Raoul was beginning to pity him. After all, he was a fellow brother and he had not willingly chosen to follow the creature. Like Nadir had originally said, Buquet was a victim. A poor sap of a victim, but one nevertheless. He didn't deserve whatever terrible fate the vampire would have in stored for him.

"You will be safe. First, we must get the girl." Nadir turned to Raoul. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Raoul replied solemnly.

They stepped out of the car and took several steps towards the building. If anyone had seen the two men, they would think they were ready for a war. And in a way, they were.

Armed with a couple of pistols apiece, shotguns, extra silver casings and bullets, crosses, holy water, and wooden stakes, the two hunters checked their guns one last time.

Nadir calmly said, "Remember, this will not be a simple fight. The vampire is strong and will do anything to fend itself. There is a chance that we will not make it out alive or with little injuries."

"The risks are inconsequential. All I care about is Christine." Raoul had a determined look on his face. All of his years of service and training as an officer have come down to this point. He will face this monster once and for all. And this time, he will not show any mercy. He will fight until his dying breath to ensure Christine's soul and life is saved.

Buquet watched them standing there before moving onward. He slowly shook his head. "Fools," he muttered. They were going to die. The Master will drain them of their blood before killing them.

And then…

And then… the Master will come after him.

The promise of protection was nothing when those men were walking into their deaths. He had to act now if he wanted to keep his blood.

Buquet saw the keys were left in the ignition and it was purely luck for him. He took a deep breath and launched himself to the front of the car, trying to avoid hitting his leg, but failed as a fresh bout of pain ripped through him. He sucked in his breath to keep from crying out, but only leaked out some tears. Eventually, Buquet was able to arrange himself and started the car.

Punching the gas, he made his getaway.

xxXXxx

Nadir and Raoul exchanged looks as they watched the car drive away.

"Forget him," Nadir told the young man. "Allah will help us if we prove victorious."

"Here's hoping," Raoul mumbled.

The Persian pushed the door opened and the men were swallowed up in the darkness.

At first, the home looked truly abandoned with the boarded up windows. There weren't any signs of occupation and they had to wonder if Buquet somehow tricked them again. It wasn't until an ominous voice boomed throughout the house that they knew they were, indeed, in the right place.

"Welcome _messieurs_!"

TBC…


	40. Chapter 40

A/N: All right everyone… here it is! The very last chapter! Next one is going to be an epilogue. Thank you to all of my lovely readers for sticking with me from the start and for my new readers for just finding this story! But this is not the end. There are many stories that can be found within this one and this tale is far from over. Hang in there my fellow phans… this is the last cliffhanger, I promise.

**Chapter 40**

_Click. _

Guns were armed and they looked around to see where the voice was coming from. Yet, all they could see was darkness and hear the moaning of the walls as the wind passed through.

"I had hoped you would come. And now! My wish comes true. You have truly made my night!"

There was a breeze of cool air and Raoul fired in that direction. Instead of a cry of pain, there was only laughter as Erik danced away from the bullet.

"Very nice de Chagny! Almost had me!"

"Keep your eyes alert!" Nadir screamed as he took aimed and fired too.

The laughter continued to build into a crescendo. Nadir yelled for Raoul to stop shooting.

"Where's Christine?" Raoul screamed. "If you hurt her you goddamn piece of—"

"Such passion! Such concern!" the demon mocked. "For what? She doesn't want you. She has never wanted you! It is me she longs for, _my name_ she screams as she cums…"

Raoul shot another round and there was a scurry of footsteps before a figure finally appeared in front of them. There stood the creature that Raoul had been hunting for weeks now. Finally, he was able to look the vampire in the eye and see this murderer face to face.

That night in the cemetery had been difficult to see and Raoul barely had a glance. Now… he saw who this Erik was and the hatred burned in his heart.

The creature that had been once a man was all dressed for warfare in an outfit that was a long red jacket and red pants. A fedora was perched on his head, tilted to the side, casting a shadow over his face. The vampire lifted his chin to reveal a crimson skull mask and two glowing amber eyes.

Then he removed the jacket to reveal his shirt to be an ebony color. The creature held out his arms in a mocking gesture of welcoming them, taking a step forward as he spoke.

"I greet you gentlemen as my honored guests for the evening! Do you know how long I waited for this moment? Of course you do not understand… you never had to wait as long as I have, but it makes this meeting all the more interesting."

"Where is Christine!?" Raoul repeated, yelling at the monster. "Christine! Answer me!"

The vampire focused its glare on the young man, his voice snarling, "Did you think I would harm her? Why would I bring her pain when she has done nothing to deserve such treatment?"

"You fucking bastard," Raoul growled back. "You did nothing but hurt her! Manipulating her, controlling her, biting her…" He was interrupted when Erik threw his head back and laughed.

"I may be guilty of a lot of things, Mr. de Chagny," it spat. "But Christine's welfare has always been important to me. I did what I had to do to protect her. I cannot say the same for you."

Nadir jumped in front of Raoul before the officer could give into impulse and charge the vampire. He held a silver cross in front of the demon and began speaking in Latin, warding the monster off with prayers and holy words.

That little bit was a pinch and nothing more to Erik, but he did take a step back away from the cross. "You think you are better than me. You think Erik has nothing to offer Christine and that he uses her for his whims… A soulless monster, a vampire with no heart. You don't know the real truth. She chose Erik! She chose him and his face!"

He ripped off the mask causing Raoul to gasp out in astonishment, but Nadir kept his ground. He knew from the stories about the creature's face and it was startling to say the least… but he dared not betray any emotion. On the other hand, Raoul couldn't look away from the horror before him. Christine chose _that_!? It couldn't be true… it was another trick. He was sick to his stomach… the urge to vomit rising within his throat, but with great force, he did manage to keep it together. Yet, there was little he could do to hide his revulsion.

"There is no way she would have chosen you! You did something to her!" Raoul exclaimed.

"I love her! She loves me!" Erik shouted, his eyes sparking into fire as his face began to change, the demon coming forth. "You cannot take her away from me. She is mine!"

"Vampire! You can't love!" Nadir screamed. "Let the girl go free!"

"The Hell I can't!" The transformation in place, the demon moved to position itself, getting prepared to lunge in its first attack. "Pray for your precious God as the Devil will damn you for all eternity!"

"STOP!"

The deafening scream caused them to stop as another figure came running out.

"Christine," Raoul whispered as the singer stood beside the vampire. "Christine! Get away!" he started to shout at her as he lifted his rifle to aim once more.

Defiantly, she stepped in front of the vampire, using herself as a shield. Staring at Raoul, she demanded, "Stop this now. Lower the gun Raoul."

Breathing heavily, he could not do what she requested, not when he saw the trail of blood falling down her pale throat and creating a stain on her shirt. If anything, he tightened his finger on the trigger, his entire frame shaking from fury and hate.

Yet, Christine did not allow that to stop her. Imploringly, she looked to Nadir. "Lower the weapon Nadir. I'm fine. You don't need to do this. I made my decision and I belong here with Erik."

The Persian looked from her to the demon. Immediately, the creature retreated and in its place was the human shell once more. It gazed at her with such adoration and there was only love on his countenance.

_It couldn't be… _Nadir thought. _I must be seeing this wrong. There is no way…_

Yet, there was no mistaking the love between them. It was the same look he had on his face when he met his wife. But that would mean that everything he had lived for, had fought for, had killed for… If this was real, then this changed everything about his life as a hunter.

_No! This isn't real! That demon killed my family! It will kill more!_

He turned to see de Chagny and the boy was in a distraught shock. The rifle that he had pointed wavered and the barrel was facing down.

"Nadir." His name was said softly again and as he looked back at the Daaé girl who continued to gaze upon him with sympathy and determination. "Can you see it now? Do you believe me when I say Erik loves me? You said vampires are soulless, heartless beings who know nothing of their former human lives. But Erik is different. He remembers how to feel and he knows how to love. This is not a trick or a trap. Look. Look at how happy we are."

There was no denying the happiness that was glowing on her face and she didn't appear to be in a trance. This was too real to be faked. For the first time in his life, the Persian faltered. He didn't know what he should do.

Meanwhile, Raoul was regaining awareness and he cringed at the fact that Christine had kissed and made love with this monster. That face! How could she look at it with love? It couldn't be love… It couldn't be!

Christine returned to him and smiled gently. "Please Raoul. I know this is painful for you to hear, but you have to know that we would never have worked. I wouldn't make you happy. You're a good man and I know you will find someone who is ten times better than me. Let's end this before any of us does something we will regret. Let us part as friends."

She meant this as a goodbye, he realized with alarm. Gripping his gun tightly, Raoul tried once more for her to see reason. "That _thing_ that you love has killed, Christine! Those women deserve justice! People need closure after what that son of a bitch did. Have you already forgotten what he did to Carlotta and Meg? Fuck Christine, think about them!"

The singer lowered her face. "I know," she murmured. "Words can't describe how sorry I am and how I wish things were different. But I can't turn back the clock, neither can you or Erik. Trust me when I say I gave this a lot of thought. Killing Erik isn't going to bring those women back. And as much as I wanted to hate him for that I can't. My heart won't allow it. I love him Raoul. I love all his flaws, his sins, and future sins. He is a vampire and that will never change. I accept it and I accept that it will be difficult and I will have to live with that guilt for the rest of my life. But this is my decision Raoul. I can't go back now. I hope Meg will forgive me as well."

"The Giry girl is no longer under my compulsion," Erik added as well. "I freed her not that long after Christine returned."

"What about Buquet?" Nadir questioned. "Were you planning on freeing him too? Or will you planning on killing him for betraying you?"

"If Christine wishes him to be free, then of course I will free him," Erik said. "I will not kill him. Even if he did betray me… I know his death will not make her happy. Nor the demon, but I hold Christine above my petty need and lust for blood."

"What about now? You tried to kill us!" Raoul accused. "Is that all right?"

Erik's eyes narrowed. "I had to protect myself and my love. The demon was only doing what was natural."

Raoul shook his head in disbelief. "This is fucking insane!"

"I know it's a lot to take in Raoul," Christine said. "But there you have it. Erik is exercising restraint and control over his demon by not fighting you right now. It's progress. And who knows? We might be able to prevent people from dying when Erik needs to feed. It can work. I know you want to marry me, Raoul. I know you still love me. But you have to let me go. My place is with Erik. It always has been."

"Yes," Nadir spoke suddenly. His brown eyes had tears in them. "I suppose it could be possible. After all, love can prove to be miraculous."

"There's one more thing," Christine said. "Your family. Erik didn't kill them. I know you wanted to think he did… to believe that the monster who would do something like that was none other than the vampire from your family's stories. But it wasn't. Being inside Erik's mind… seeing his memories… he was there but he didn't do it."

Nadir looked to the vampire and it confirmed what Christine had said.

"I sensed who you are and what you do… and when I saw you, well, it was like seeing my old friend again. You're exactly like him. Annoying and irritating as ever, but despite our differences, I respected him and in turn… he allowed me the chance to exist. He didn't have to, but he did. I never forgot that and it was why I never approached your family. The demon had nothing to do with you."

"But—" Nadir faltered.

"Yet, you wanted the monster. You wanted to hunt me. To avenge their deaths. It never occurred to you that it wasn't me, but someone else. Call it fate but my path crossing yours was never intentional and the real killer is still out there."

Tears blinked in the Persian's eyes. "I…"

Erik interrupted him. "No. I don't want to hear it. I have told you enough and you still can kill what you hate for taking your family prematurely. Although, if you still feel compelled to kill me for what I am. Then I will not hesitate to do what I must to survive, even if I have to kill you." He paused, and continued, "It wouldn't be easy, but there were many times when I wanted to murder that fool so his descendant wouldn't be different."

That tore a humorless chuckle out of the Persian for he could believe it. "Allah… I am at a loss."

"I'm not," Raoul said through his teeth. "I won't be fooled by this!" He raised the rifle and shouted, "I love Christine and I will save her!"

The gun fired and in that split second… everything changed.

The rifle clanked as it fell to the ground, followed by Raoul falling to his knees as he couldn't take his eyes off of Christine.

Blood was pumping out of her stomach, her breath coming out in loud pants as Erik's arms cradled her. The reaction was immediate as both Erik and Nadir moved to help the stunned girl.

It was all in slow motion in front of Raoul's eyes. Nadir was applying pressure to the wound as Erik was trying to assure her she was all right. Yet, all three could see the life slipping from her as Christine fought to maintain consciousness.

"No…" Raoul whispered in horror. "No! No! Not her! It wasn't meant for her!"

His cries captured Erik's attention and the demon was back in place as he stared murderously at the grieving boy.

"You did this!" Erik roared and while every instinct was screaming for him to pay him back with his own blood sprayed throughout the walls, it was Christine's weak touch that kept him by her side.

"Stay," she whispered. "Don't hurt him…"

"Christine!" Erik pleaded as she let out a yelp.

"It burns…" she cried.

"Silver bullet," Nadir said. "The poison is spreading through her. Has she…?"

"Yes… will that affect…?"

"Most likely. I need to get it out."

Christine let out another scream of pain and then she became silent. Too silent.

Raoul sobbed and as he attempted to crawl over to her, Nadir was standing up and yanking him to his feet.

"We must go," the Persian told him. "There's nothing else we can do. We need to leave them be."

"Christine!" Raoul choked as the other man dragged him away.

"de Chagny! Her fate is in Allah's hands! We must go!" Nadir yelled.

The last thing Raoul saw was Erik holding Christine's lifeless form in his bloodied arms, the vampire biting the skin on his wrist as he smeared the blood across her lips.

TBC…


	41. Epilogue

A/N: Here we are! The very last installment. Although, this will not be farewell for long… as you read this you will find plenty of opportunities for me to lengthen the stories and revisit our favorite characters. I will post _The Blood's Desire: Vignettes _in a couple of weeks… with the holidays approaching and everything. It will not be a weekly update like this, but I will try to post a new chapter as often as I can. Also, feel free to check out the rest of my other stories and I will have a new E/C story called _My Ghost (Love) Story_, but that won't be for a while. I'm on chapter 6 and I like to get at least ten chapters into a story before I start posting. So hang in there!

I want to say thank you to each and every one of you for your never ending support and encouragement! It means the world to me, especially since this story was waiting patiently to be told. And the perfectionist in me knows there are inconsistencies so one day I intend to correct those mistakes, but for now… I want you to enjoy this different spin on the E/C relationship.

So without further ado…

**Epilogue **

As told in the diary of Meg Giry…

_The wedding was postponed. I had to do it. There was no other choice. Not when Christine was gone. _

_Unfortunately, I don't remember much, neither does Artie. The past week has been fuzzy and at times I will have this random memory that will pop in my head, but quickly fade as it arrived. The one thing that keeps coming back is that I am throwing someone against a wall, which is strange since I know I'm not strong enough to throw an actual human being._

_Regardless, I do remember waking in my car with Artie. We were driving somewhere… I don't know where and Artie didn't have a clue. It was like the light was turned on in a dark room, but we had no recollection for the last several days. We thought about going to a hospital, but the whole thing sounded so bizarre that I was sure we would be committed and that was the last thing I wanted to happen. _

_Also, I don't think I want to know. Especially since there was this rancid smell in the trunk and we decided it was better to dump it somewhere and buy a new one. Out of sight, out of mind. _

_I tried calling Christine, but it went to voicemail and the same with Raoul's number. But I knew something wasn't right. I had this feeling in my gut that something was terribly wrong and combined with the spontaneous amnesia from myself and fiancé… I didn't want to take any chances and cancelled everything._

_My mother wasn't actually thrilled about it (and so was the rest of our guests), but I couldn't exactly explained it to her. I didn't know how to explain it to myself! All I knew it wasn't right and that was that. Of course, I did have to throw out my wedding favors (as they were nonrefundable), but there was no point in crying over it. My concern was the fact that my best friend and her ex were missing._

_I was worried that Erik had something to do with it and I told Artie the whole truth. At least I owed him a reason why I couldn't marry him right away. Surprisingly, Artie handled it well. I guess losing your memory makes you accept any reason, no matter how farfetched it sounds. And we did contemplate going to police after what I remembered Raoul telling me. Of course, how to explain that the killer was a vampire who was my best friend's boyfriend… I had a feeling that would have been frowned upon. Even if I could convince Raoul's captain that was the God's honest truth._

_So the wedding was on hold for the immediate future until some questions could be answered and mainly for Raoul and Christine to return. I wasn't sure if I wanted Erik to return as well. _

_Then one night Raoul showed up at our townhouse with a foreign-looking man. To this day… I could never forget the look on Raoul's face—haggard, freakishly white, his eyes bloodshot, and if possible, his hair was white too… not blonder but stark white. He barely said a word, yet his attention was faraway… He was on the verge of a breakdown… anyone could see it. But why? What happened?_

_The foreign man—Nadir Khan—told us the rest of the story. He told us how Artie and I were compelled to obey Erik to make sure Christine would return to him and how she got away from me when we were waiting for Erik. He told us about the incident at the cemetery, the new murders, the road trip to Maine, Christine's escape, and the confrontation with Erik and ultimately Christine's fate. She had been shot by Raoul, even though the bullet was meant for Erik; yet, she had jumped in front of it, taking it instead to save him. _

_Mr. Khan admitted he didn't know if Christine survived or not. It wasn't safe to stay with Erik and he took Raoul and got out of there as fast as he could. _

"_So far Erik has not been after us or he would have found us by now," Mr. Khan said gravely. "I don't know if it's good or bad or if he is biding his time. So I hope you understand when I say that we need to lie low for a while. However, I don't think Mr. de Chagny will be able to. I wish I could do something, but he continues to be in shock. I prayed to Allah that Erik will have mercy on the boy and let him grieve alone."_

_Now Raoul's appearance made sense and I had to mourn for my friend. I wanted to place all the blame on Raoul, but I could see he was suffering so much from it. Adding more guilt to him wasn't going to solve anything and he was my friend too. We may not be close friends, but we were friends, and he was my last link to Christine. And listening to Mr. Khan's side… it was easy to believe Christine would do that. She was that kind of person. She would do anything to save someone she loved, even if she had to take a bullet for it. She did and I could throttle for her for doing that, but I know I would have done the same. _

_For her, for Artie. _

_Yes… it was a leap of faith, but for love… it was worth it._

_Of course, at the time I heard all this, I was not as logical or practical at the moment. Artie said I was cussing both men out and I actually picked up a lamp to throw at one of them before he stopped me. Now, I don't remember doing any of that, but Artie insisted I did so I'll take his word on it._

_I do remember Artie taking me away so I could cry for her. I didn't leave the bedroom for days because if I did, then I had to accept that Christine was dead. My best friend, my maid of honor, my sister was dead. It was a reality I could not face. I wasn't ready and thank God Artie was patient. He allowed me to cry my eyes out, curse the world, and sit in silence until I emerged. _

_It wasn't fair. _

_None of this was fair._

_While I was affected by this, I knew I wasn't the only person. Angus and the rest of Box Five had to be notified, not to mention, someone needed to take care of Van Helsing. That one was a no brainer as Artie and I adopted him. On top of that, I knew Raoul was impacted the most as he was the one who shot the bullet. _

_It took me a week or two to finally see him. And I'm glad I did. If I had waited any longer… well you don't have to imagine what that means. _

_I brought Raoul to her memorial. It was difficult to have a funeral since there was no body to bury, but it was passed off that Christine had fallen victim to the Phantom's hands. _

_It was beautiful. We had a lot of people showed up. Friends, family, and strangers… people who were affected by the murders or who were sympathetic to our plight. There was so much kindness and generosity that despite the ugliness of the world there could be some beauty found within tragedy and hope. They didn't know Christine, but it felt like in that moment, they did. _

_But Raoul…_

_He could never get over her. He had been unresponsive during the service, moving about in a daze, as if none of this was real. I must admit it was surreal for me as well, but Raoul took it to a new level. _

_No one and I mean no one could reach him. I had a difficult time contacting him since he never returned his phone calls, texts, or emails. I was so worried that I stopped at his apartment to find out from his landlord that Raoul had moved out not long after the memorial service. He told me that Raoul was also fired from the police department. _

_It was none of my business to pursue this, but Raoul was a friend and the last thing I wanted to do was bury another person. I went to NYPD and demanded to see Captain Harker. He refused to see me as I was not part of Raoul's family and there was no crime in firing someone. But I did meet someone who would talk to me—Thomas Seward. I met him the one time we got Van Helsing from him and he seemed nice, but that was the extent of our meeting. It wasn't until I was there that he was relieved to see a friend of Raoul's. _

_He told me that Raoul was staying with him for the time being and that he was very concerned for him. Raoul hadn't been eating for days and refused to go to a hospital. Even Seward was reaching his boiling point and was going to force Raoul to seek help. _

_It was better now than later. _

_I went back with Seward and what I found… was shocking. He had lost a lot of weight, his skin was sagging on his bones, his face was shrunken and bearded, his hair still white. He didn't look like a young man anymore. He looked like he had aged at least thirty years. I would never have recognized him if Seward hadn't told me it was him. _

_He was sitting by a window, just staring out into nothing. In fact, all he did was stare outside, as if looking or waiting for something._

_Or someone._

_Getting Raoul admitted wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be. He didn't put up much of a fight and let's face it… we were stronger than he. _

_The first night the hospital had him under suicide watch._

_Now, I knew Raoul blamed himself for what happened to Christine. I was angry but this was going too far. He had to snap out of it and move on. Christine wouldn't have wanted him to waste away, not over her. _

_The following weeks were unbearable. I visited Raoul as often as I could and even Artie and Seward would drop by to see how he was doing. He had to be fed by a tube when he first arrived, but he was starting to eat solid foods and he was allowed to have plastic utensils since there wasn't any possible danger of Raoul killing himself._

_It was a step in the right direction at least. I couldn't have asked for anything more._

_But… he still had problems. I know his parents had attempted to see him, but they were removed since their presence only irritated Raoul. I was given permission to know what was going on and I was informed that Raoul had continued his ritual by staring out the window of his room. He wouldn't speak and on a rare occasion when he did… he spoke of Christine._

"_She's out there. I know it. She haunts me," he told a nurse._

_I wanted to believe she was out there. Even if she was a vampire. I mean, Erik was one and to save her would be to turn her into one, right? Nadir said they didn't stay long enough to know exactly what happened, but Raoul was still alive… and I had to assume so was Nadir… so Erik wasn't after them. If Christine had truly died, then he would have avenged her death. _

_But there was nothing._

_The man who pulled the trigger was alive, well barely, but he was breathing. That had to mean something. I told Artie this and I saw he didn't believe me. _

"_You're grasping Meg," he said. "Christine's dead. She's not coming back and because Raoul's alive… that doesn't mean she is like him."_

_And the other thing there was no bodies._

_If two vampires were roaming the streets, then there would be a pile of victims. Yeah, New York City had its typical (normal) murders and crimes, but nothing like the Phantom. As quickly as it came it was over. Eventually, the case became a cold one… one that would never be solved and become a story of legends like so many other stories about killers. _

_Except for those of us who knew the real story. _

_But there was nothing, not a sign from Erik or Christine. Not even a single hint. I wanted to desperately believe that she was alive somewhere, even after the memorial… I wanted to believe she would still show up. _

_So I paid attention to the Internet, looking for any clues of the murders here occurring somewhere else. If I had a hit, then I would know it could be them. And I would be happy knowing that she was all right. _

_Nothing._

_Perhaps, I was filled with false hope because of Raoul. He insisted Christine was out there and I wanted to believe that._

_Then came the oddest thing, which by now, I shouldn't be surprised. But there you have it. _

_Raoul did a complete 360 and was his old self again. And I do mean his old self. _

_He was laughing, cracking jokes, eating healthily, working out, and managed to look like a human being again. His hair was still white, but there was a slight trace of his youthfulness returning. He was even talking about going back to work. Not to NYPD… oh no… he was done there, but returning to the department he worked before. _

_It was great to see Raoul was putting his life together, but to go from very depressed to bouncing back? I was suspicious and I was waiting for the other pin to fall. _

_Yet, it didn't happen._

_Instead, Raoul moved out of the city, met a nice girl, and the last I heard they were talking about getting married. This was certainly not the same man eight months ago. Something happened that caused this change and for a while I could not put my finger on what it could have been._

_Then it hit me. Compulsion. _

_A vampire could control a human's mind… maybe going as far as to ensure a quick recovery from all the sadness and pain that he suffered._

_And there could only be one person who would want Raoul to move on with his life. _

_Christine._

_That was the sign I was looking for. Raoul's recovery was to let us know that she was all right and while Raoul was now accepting of her death; it made me believe that she was not completely dead._

_And if she wasn't completely dead, then I knew she will come back. She did promise to be my maid of honor and I wasn't married._

_Yet._

_So here I am all dressed for my wedding (and I look damn good) and I'm writing this all down because… someone has to and even if no one reads this… that's fine. As long as I penned it down, then I know the story. And I could never forget what happened._

_I have the window opened to let in the night's air (I decided an evening wedding would be appropriate as opposed to during the day) and the moon is out with the stars. It's a perfect night to be married and in ten minutes I will be Mrs. Arthur Morris. _

_But for now, I am waiting for them to come. _

Meg set down the pen and walked over to the window. She gazed out into the darkness and down below the trees and bushes were swaying from the warm breeze. She felt a tingling sensation that she was being watched. There was no fear as she peered out and saw two pairs of glowing amber eyes from the shadows.

She smiled and waved.

The End


End file.
